Plankton's Eye View
by Monica Gilbey-Bieber
Summary: After ten years in prison, Plankton has been given a second chance to redeem himself and turn his life around, which is something that is almost impossible at his current bitter state, but he will take the chance. This is my first serious fanfic. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Epilogue

**CHAPTER 1 – EPILOGUE**

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_[Author's Note/Disclaimer: First of all, this is a work of fiction and all a product of my somewhat disturbing imagination, hence the M rating, mostly for this first chapter that is the anticlimactic, abrupt conclusion of my horrible, deliberately-poorly-written troll-fiction that I've finally given up on, One Less Lonely Gurl. (Update on this statement: I was planning to give this fic an M rating, but I decided to give it a T rating because the contents after this chapter will be more wholesome. Only this chapter is actually M rated.) For more details on what happened and why I quit writing that horrifically preppy equivalent of Tara Gilesbie's My Immortal, please visit my profile or my blog, which my profile has a link to._

_None of the events that are currently taking place in this story ever really happened or will ever happen either in real life or in the Spongebob Franchise itself. Also, I don't own the Spongebob franchise in any way, knowing that this is FAN fiction after all. Any similar events, people (sorry Justin!), and places, especially Russia and the Bermuda Triangle, are just coincidences._

_If you want to skip this ending to One Less Lonely Gurl and get to the main story immediately, jump to chapter 2 and read onwards. I promise you guys that chapter 2 onwards will be a more wholesome story about friendship, hurt, and comfort in the Plankton's Eye View, hence the title of this story._

_Lastly, enjoy, and feel free to post a review that will help improve my writing and therefore provide you guys with a truly memorable reading material. You can even flame me if you want. Go ahead. I'm not going to argue with you anymore. By the way, I would like to apologize to you guys for wasting your time back then and dumping f-bombs on you. In fact, I actually agree with all your flame comments on my previous story which I hate as much as you guys do. I would even want to thank you guys for helping me restore my faith in humanity amidst all human stupidity, from duck faces to Jackass stunts gone horribly wrong, known as 'epic fails' spreading across the internet and all other forms of media._

_I would also like to apologize for this long introduction. So, are we okay? Great. Now, here's the ending to C'ren's adventure... Or you may skip to chapter 2, but to fully understand the story, know that this chapter will play an important role in some of the events in the main story no matter how irrelevant this might seem to be.]_

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...but it was all just a dream, and C'ren Bieber is really just a delusional woman selling herself to lonely men in the snowy streets of Russia. Her real name is Kataryna Simovitch, and she is, fortunately, not a villainous dominatrix-turned-goddess bent on world domination through mind control and the total elimination of rock and roll no matter how much she loathes the music genre. With her disastrous cooking skills, she will never be able to make even a half-decent sandwich that won't at least give a man of iron stomach even a slight churning.

She woke up from the weirdest dream yet, a dream that took her to an adventure of a lifetime, to the amazing discovery of a world only found in a TV show that she was able to sometimes watch by peeking through slightly-opened blinds in an apartment across the street, to (parallel-universe) Justin Bieber, the love of her life, a much younger than her pop star who will never actually love her back, and to conquest of the parallel world with Plankton's help. It was a dream that led her back to the days of her youth and it was something she never wanted to get out of, but in the end, dreams only last for a night. Any time soon, she will have to wake up, feel the chills up her spine, and realize that Justin's warm embrace that will ultimately make her one less lonely girl in the world is nothing but a figment of her imagination, along with the swarms of mindless zombies submitting to her orders.

She was never really taken in one winter night by some nice folks who allowed her to become a marine biologist at such a young age and start anew in America, let alone pursue her passion in life to make a groundbreaking discovery that will make a difference to the world and to avenge herself. She is just a crazy woman with dreams of world conquest that will never come true. She never also learned to read and write. No, she can't even count and logically explain why one plus one is equal to two. But hey, at least she knows that the rectangular papers and pieces of shiny, circular things called Rubles, also known as money, which she collects from her clients, is something that she can give away to sellers in exchange for better food and a vestige of hope for a 'better' life.

It was true, though, that she was abused in her childhood by her half-brother and his even more insane mother because she is the daughter of her father's other woman who died giving birth to her. While she was being abused, her father could do nothing but just watch her scream her heart out in vain because he was gagged and bound to a chair. It was also true that she hated rock and all other types of heavy music (especially Green Day and Avenged Sevenfold, her half-brother's two favorite bands) because she felt that their loudness silenced her screams and that they serve as a permanent reminder of all the things she's been through. What she doesn't know, however, is that her brother likes those bands because he feels empowered just listening to them. What she doesn't understand is that her brother has low self-esteem because he gets bullied in school a lot, is overweight and aesthetically-challenged, and has low grades to the point that he sometimes contemplates suicide. Unfortunately for him, he never really mustered up the courage to stand up for himself and do what is right; instead, all he ever did was do what he was told to. In other words, he just suffers as much as she does. It was true too that on her seventh birthday, she lost her father to her half-brother's mother.

Besides, Bikini Bottom really isn't the destination of a mysterious portal inside a giant coral reef under the Bermuda Triangle, if that coral reef and portal had actually existed. Bikini Bottom isn't a district in Atlantis because they are two separate places. Also, Kataryna can't be a marine biologist because she can't hold her breath underwater, not even for a millisecond. She is a horrible swimmer.

The only thing that Kataryna is ever really good at is being a fixture in that street where she would often stand, scantily-clad even in days when temperature drops below zero. Most days, she was wearing just an old, tattered-beyond-possible-repair, faded black shirt that flaunted her huge sagging breasts and a hot pink leather miniskirt so short that it resembled a belt without the pants. She was always trying to hitch a ride in bed with every man she meets. And, being a fixture, she's only had relatively very few clients in her years there. She isn't the tall, voluptuous yet slender, beautiful, blue-eyed, blonde woman who seduced the world to follow her whims. Yes, she is a tall woman standing at five foot ten, with blonde hair, fair skin, and blue eyes, but other than that, she isn't really a dream. Let's just say that she looks like someone that a drunken man would see on his bed after a nasty hangover or someone any man in his right mind would only be caught with if he lost a bet.

No one, not even herself, remembers when she actually started to dwell in that street after she decided to flee her house in the heat of a civil war that broke out many years ago, shortly after her father passed away. Justice never came for the murder of her father. As of today, her former tormentors still freely roam the streets of Russia and live their lives as if nothing had gone wrong at all.

It was in that street too when she learned how to use herself to somewhat restore the morale of emotionally wounded soldiers and refugees. But that seemingly glorious purpose has faded away after the years have went by and effaced the traces of the war.

As she stood up from the dimly-lit lamppost that she leaned on in her cold slumber, she looked up and saw a silhouette of a man.

"Finally," she thought. She hasn't had a client for months now, and she barely ate. She drank the snow she melted in the palms of her hands to quench her thirst and keep herself alive. She only ate leftovers from the trash cans, and on luckier days, roadkill roasted on a cozy fire made from boughs of withering trees nearby. Even if she is a horrible cook, she has learned to love the taste of roadkill ripple's savory flavor of fresh blood with half-cooked meat.

"Get in the car," the man said as he smoked a cigar.

He then led her up to a cheap motel room, and before she was able to undo the zipper of her leather miniskirt, he turned on the TV, and anyone could just guess what he was watching. Yes, he was watching the latest episode of Spongebob SquarePants.

"Don't even get me started on that goddamned yellow nightmare," Kataryna said angrily as she zipped up her skirt again and looked at him in such disdain, not even taking the money. And that's about the time she walked away from him.

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_[Author's Note/Disclaimer: My favorite part of writing this ending is describing her nightmarish appearance and ridiculously unfashionable clothing just for the lulz. I forgot to include this in the first author's note, but I would also like to apologize to all the rock/punk/metal acts I've dissed in my previous fanfic. I never really meant any of that. The truth is, I love all those bands/artists to death. At least Tara has good taste in music. I have to admit that and I don't care if any of you guys will bash me for it._

_I've also seen Avenged Sevenfold live and they are the best band of this generation in my opinion to ever walk this planet. If you think otherwise, then I respect that. I know for a fact that everyone has a right to prefer something over another and that variety is the spice of life. I know that it's impossible to please everyone. Heck, not even Jesus himself could do just that. Rock in peace, Jimmy Sullivan, foREVer.]_


	2. Chapter 2: Freedom?

**CHAPTER 2 – FREEDOM?**

""_Don't even get me started on that goddamned yellow nightmare," Kataryna said angrily as she zipped up her skirt again and looked at him in such disdain, not even taking the money. And that's about the time she walked away from him…"_

"Barnacles! Who writes such horrible stories anyway!" I shouted angrily to no one in particular as I threw the awfully disturbing book I've just finished reading, entitled _One Less Lonely Gurl_, down the dirty floor of the prison cell that I've been incarcerated in for a decade now, at least since I've been transferred to the palace dungeon from being in a run-off-the-mill jail some days after I've been arrested. For these years, this has been my punishment. Since I had nothing else to do in this small, dingy gray cubicle that I've done my best to call home, I read the pulp fiction books that Neptune would occasionally drop by my cell. Sure, the place I used to live in was dark, derelict, lonely, and colorless, but even I would think that this prison cell is a little too dreary. It is actually a small hole in a wall just a little above the regular-sized prison cell that confines Doubloon Swallowin' Misty, a sinister female pirate who got confined there after attempting to steal Neptune's trident. My prison cell is so high above the ground that it is almost impossible to escape from, except for some ledges formed by how uneven the bricks of the dungeon walls were laid down.

Ever since Neptune read the blasted love story about a human and a vampire, he has been so hooked to bad literature and making fun of it that he actually started to hold a contest every year where all creatures from the seven seas are entitled to participate, a competition where the contestants have to write the single worst piece of literature they could possibly come up with. The theme for this year was about parallel universes, and this entry, _One Less Lonely Gurl_, was about a universe where we don't exist at all, a universe where we are all just figments of the imagination of a marine biologist named Stephen Hillenburg. It was a world where we were all just part of one big TV show that humans, gigantic two-eyed creatures that somewhat resemble mermaids, love to watch laugh at, laugh with, and sometimes cry with. It was a story of the girl who discovered a portal to the parallel world where the way they see us as the sea creatures we really are is just an illusion and where we are just like them, only we live underwater.

One would possibly think that I should have just folded the papers of each of the horrible books into origami pieces instead of punishing myself further by actually reading them. But then, I don't know a thing or two about origami at all, and as I said, I would lose my mind if I have nothing to do. Besides, out of sick curiosity, it can be fascinating how far anyone can go just to write something so horrible without having them lose their minds. I have to admit that I'm utterly amazed in a bizarre way by the poorly-written things I've read in my ten years here. I remember the most horrible I've read so far; it was that 'story' of a 'beautiful' girl with black, red, and purple hair who cursed the world for making her too beautiful, described what she wore in vivid detail in every chapter, and despised anyone who isn't like her; it was written by some depressed teenager who at least achieved something in her life by being the winner for that year's competition with the theme 'sorcery.' Patrick's winning entry from several Short Story Seasons ago, _The Ugly Barnacle_, wasn't even close to this in the scale of horrible.

That was all I ever did in this prison besides eating that gray sludge in a bowl served to me every day for breakfast, lunch, and 'suffer', which I never knew the recipe to after ten years. Heck, I can't even get the recipe of a Krabby Patty. I've failed in that pursuit for almost all my life now. And that's pretty much why I'm here. I can't remember much of what happened in the days before I've been sent here, other than the fact that Spongebob ruined my kingdom, and that at some point, I was able to swipe the Krabby Patty formula by taking advantage of Neptune's anger. I stole his crown and put the blame on Mr. Krabs. Alas, I've already forgotten the recipe. I still failed. I've always been a bitter failure in all my pursuits, from getting the ladies to making even a half-decent sandwich that won't at least give a shark of iron stomach even a slight churning.

Okay, I admit it. I'm bitter, and reading the story of me in that parallel universe only made me bitterer than I already was. Kataryna, the story's protagonist, and I, actually have a lot of things in common. We're both just bitter failures in life, and only in our dreams to we get everything we want, where we could live the opposites of our realities. We both have dreams of world conquest that will never come true.

In reality, I'm just an unattractive, puny little protozoan with one big, red eye on his forehead. The years have painted unsightly liver spots and wrinkles on my face. I have no mirror in this cell at all to see for myself, but I could feel the lumps and bumps when I would wipe the sweat off my face with my stubby arms that seemed to shrink little by little whenever I would look at them. My skin has also lost its former greenish luster, turning it into a shade of gray as dingy as my prison cell itself. I've also grown a lush, white beard that I could braid for about five millimeters. Besides reading those horrible pieces of literature and eating the same horrible sludge the dungeon 'chefs' call 'food', what I did for the rest of the time was to find new and innovative ways to style my beard when it eventually grew long enough. I even tried to style my beard to be able to pick the cell's lock, but I ended up dismissing the idea as impossibly ridiculous.

Just like Kataryna, the only thing I was ever really good at is being a fixture in this prison where I could do nothing but wait for the day I will finally be free, perhaps to try again and ultimately take away the Krabby Patty formula. This was the book that finally drew the line for me even if I personally hated how poorly-written it was. My patience was wearing thin. I wanted to escape! I've always wanted to leave since I've been sent here, but when I finished this Neptune-forsaken book, I've had it.

"Oh, Plankton!" a booming voice resonated through the air as I felt he ground shake, getting gradually more intense by the seconds.

"What is it this time?" I asked flatly.

'I have good news for you," Neptune replied as he peeked through my tiny cell. From here, I could only see his eyes and the upper half of his nose. Even if he said he had good news, I still trembled in fear. He opened the door of my cell and stepped aside. He raised his hand as if allowing me to get out. I didn't move at all because this could possibly be just a trap or a test of some sort.

"What are you waiting for, puny creature? You've already done your time. Come on, you're wasting precious dungeon space!"

"Are you serious about this?" I asked as I continued to shake in fear, stuttering every word.

"And why would I not be, you stuttering barnaclehead? Hurry up before I change my mind!"

He was being serious. He's setting me free! After ten, long boring years of waiting, and waiting, and waiting… I'll see the sun, the moon, and the stars again, and even they will soon bow down to me. I will finally see how the world progressed in ten years' time. I actually thought ten years ago, that I would have to stay in this prison cell for the rest of my life. I started to smile and laugh hysterically like some patient in a psychiatric ward who was allowed to see the view outside for the first time in so many years. I quickly ran outside my cell and descended down the staircase that Neptune materialized. I did this as fast as I could because he can make the staircase disappear anytime, making me plummet to my death.

"However, that does not mean that you are fully free," Neptune continued as I ran like a madman across the halls. His voice resonated even through the thick dungeon walls and through twists and turns. "You are still a prisoner in yourself. You may have been let out of this tiny cubicle you have learned to call home for a decade, but you are still also a prisoner in the world. All the bitterness you have in you right now will continue to confine you. I'm simply moving you to a bigger prison. Freedom is nothing but illusion to you…"

I did not really heed his words that are useless to me now. His words are just a way for him to dampen my spirit and discourage me from going back to the world. He's already letting me out of the prison cell. I'm off to a fresh start now. I'm sure that, after ten years, no one will even remember me for the bitter failure I am, so what confinement is Neptune talking about? Besides, I can only imagine how different I look now that I have a full beard, wrinkles, and liver spots. What's important is that I'm free from this prison and back to the world where I should be, making my way up to the throne, no longer to be trampled on and treated like gum under someone's shoe.

I caught up for breath after I descended to the last step in the grandiose staircase right in front of the gigantic front doors of Neptune's Palace. For the first time in a long time, I lay down on the sand and watched the sunset as the sky gradually blackened and glittered with specks of white. I rested for a while and buried three-fourths of my body under the sand to keep myself warm for the night before I head off to Bikini Bottom tomorrow.

I thought of what my life will be like. The very first thing that came to my mind is that I will no longer have to read the bad literature being distributed to prisoners like me as their sole form of amusement or perhaps supplementary punishment. I have sworn to myself that I will never join that stupid writing contest. I will have to change how I will be called from now on. Perhaps I could ask to be called Sheldon even if my computer wife, Karen thought it was a funny name. Or maybe James, my middle name that I've never used in my entire life. As soon as she crossed my mind, I thought of how she was doing after ten years without me.

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[Author's Note/Disclaimer: As a matter of fact, since this is a fan fiction after all, this story also takes place, technically, in a parallel universe, unbeknownst to any of the characters. None of this actually happened or will happen in the actual franchise. Although I would be quite flattered if the guys behind the scenes of Spongebob would actually make a movie out of my fanfic, which is highly unlikely. But I can dream, right? In fact, a sequel to the movie is being planned and the plot might conflict with the events that will happen here. In this story, it is assumed that nothing happened in the ten years that Plankton was imprisoned until the time the story starts.]


	3. Chapter 3: After Ten Years

**CHAPTER 3 – AFTER TEN YEARS**

I fell asleep as soon as I started to ponder on how she is doing that when I opened my eye again, the rays of the sun are already shining brightly upon me. Bikini Bottom is still a long way ahead, and I have absolutely nothing at all so I can't afford to ride the bus. This is going to be a long walk. But wait, since I am just small and insignificant after all that I sometimes get trampled on and get peeled off from shoes like discarded chewing gum, perhaps they won't even notice that I've already hitched a free ride on the bus.

I walked for a few meters or so downhill until I saw a red bus a few minutes later by the bus stop. So far, nothing much has changed in how buses would look like in ten years' time. It was still the same standard issue bus that has roamed the streets of Bikini Bottom and its outskirts for more than two decades now. I went with the crowd that walked to the bus and I dodged a lot of steps that could possibly squish me. The very first thing I noticed in the bus was that even the interior has not changed much.

I stayed at the bottom of a vacant seat so that no one would notice me. I leaned onto the metal supports of the seats and did my best to relax after that tiring game of dodge-foot despite the dust that gathered in the bottom of the seat along with some chunks of discarded gum covered in spit. Suddenly, someone sat down on the chair above me and decided to put his stuff below it, almost squishing me. For the rest of the long journey back home, I did not enjoy the view from the bus because I couldn't even reach the windows. I could barely even move after being cornered by the bag the guy above me placed below the chair. It was pitch black in here, so I paid attention to the bus conductor who announces where the bus is already.

As soon as he announced that we are already in the Bikini Bottom bus stop, I crawled through a tiny hole between the bag and the bus wall. I went with the people who will go down this stop and I wasn't even noticed. Perhaps there are actually advantages to being almost microscopic after all, like getting free bus rides by following the crowds.

I alighted from the bus and saw the city for the first time in ten years. Everything is back to the way it was before I ruled for a short while. The very first thing I noticed was that Patrick already has a job as an ice cream vendor in a park. For a deadbeat who hates to work, he seems to be quite enjoying his job. Queues of kids, kids-at-heart, and ice cream aficionados were in front of the cart, ready to sample the one hundred more flavors that Patrick himself must have invented. I want an ice cream myself too, but I don't have money. Besides, I'm starting anew, so I don't want to make a bad impression on anyone yet.

There were posters everywhere of Pearl's upcoming concert. Mr. Krabs's crybaby teenage daughter from ten years ago is already a pop star with three albums that went platinum. Aside from that, there are also posters of a musical where Squidward and Squilliam are collaborating. A sudden, bitter reminiscence came through my mind as I saw that after all these years, Squidward and Squilliam, who were once rivals, are now best friends. I was sure about this because I just heard a couple talking about this musical on a park bench, and they were both surprised that those two have finally gotten along because the mere prospect of that seemed impossible.

I remembered that wretched crustacean, Mr. Eugene Krabs, who stole my life away from me. We were once friends that seemed inseparable. We stood by each other since our times in the nursery through the most difficult of times. We were both the school outcasts because Mr. Krabs was very poor and I was a nerd, but that was okay because we had each other. While he finished my battles for me, I finished his science homework for him and even shared my sandwich with him while enjoying the pungent aroma of the dumpster every recess time.

To make ends meet, Mr. Krabs and I started a food business, Plabs Burgers, after the former owner of a burger shack by the dumps earned his millionth dollar and quit his former job to enjoy the finer things in life when he drove off on a limo. Of course, our business was unsuccessful and was literally and figuratively in the dumps. No one tried our burgers except for Old Man Jenkins, who collapsed almost instantly after eating the burger. And that was when everything started to fall apart. The image of the fallout was still so vividly engrained in my memories. We blamed each other for staining the patty, which in turn, posed a health hazard as the news was published on a newspaper.

"No way, that recipe's mine!" Eugene said as he forcefully grabbed the paper containing the fixed patty recipe from my hands.

"Stop it, you're gonna...!" I adamantly replied as the paper finally tore. I got only a tiny piece of it that says 'and a pinch of chum.'

Mr. Krabs soon became the most popular kid in school while I stayed an outcast. But that will all change soon. I will get that recipe and rule the world!

I continued to cross the streets, averting my eye from all the posters of the two squids who have finally reconciled. I eventually passed by the street where Spongebob lives. The Easter Island tiki head is no longer there, which means that Squidward might have moved already. Patrick's house that was once a solitary brown rock is already a group of three big rocks- a pink one, the old brown one, and a white one- that resembled giant scoops of ice cream on a banana split.

The pineapple house Spongebob lives in already has a greenhouse that extends from it, which also has a tree inside. Outside, I could see Spongebob playing with a smaller sponge with brown fur, who seems to be his son with that squirrel Sandy. They were blowing bubbles of all different shapes and sizes.

"It's getting hot out here," the young sponge said to his father as he closed the container with the bubble-producing fluid. "I want an ice cream. Those bubbles were amazing, though."

"Sure, JimJam, I'll drive you by the park where my best friend Patrick is selling ice cream, some of those flavors which he invented himself," Spongebob said jovially as he tapped his son's shoulder. "Then, you can also play with the kids there. Meanwhile, I have to go to the annual science competition and assist your mommy with showcasing her latest invention to the judges. She just decided to go ahead and set up already. I almost forgot that... Anyway, I'll pick you up at four in the afternoon."

"Yay! You're the coolest!" JimJam said as he frolicked happily to the sleek sports boat parked in front of the house and burst in happy song. "I'm ready to go to the park, I'm ready to play, I'm ready to meet new friends, I'm ready to try new ice cream flavors!"

"That's my boy!" Spongebob said as he started the engine. "You know son, it took me years to actually pass my driving test, but now I have a license. That just goes to show that if you work hard for something, you will eventually get it. When you grow up to be a young man, I will teach you how to drive these babies!"

A trail of dust almost suffocated me as the boat moved forward. I can't believe what I'm seeing. It seems that everyone is already a tremendous success without me. Even Spongebob, the boy who failed a driving test for over a million times, already owns a sleek sports boat that he can smoothly drive. Patrick, that deadbeat who seemed to not care about his future at all, is now a world-famous ice cream connoisseur who has already invented so many new flavors for every taste. His face was on the cover of every dessert magazine. Squidward and Squilliam, two squids who hated each other almost as much as Mr. Krabs and I hate each other, are now best friends working together to create the musical of the centuries. Heck, even that depressed teenager who wrote that nasty story about a girl with a seemingly dark personality was able to achieve something by winning that ridiculous writing contest. I feel like I'm in the dumps right now. My reborn hopes to rule the world seemed bleaker and bleaker with every step. I can't possibly rule a bunch of people who are actually more successful than me.

I soon noticed the literal dumps and a huge factory, Stanley's Scrap Shop, processing the garbage and converting them into usable objects that are sold for a cheaper price. Oh no, not that cousin of Spongebob who ruined my business back then when I've mistakenly hired him, thinking that he can cook just as well as his cousin. Even that underachieving barnacle head who ruins everything he touches now makes a living by, well, ruining things. At least he's worth something now.

I inevitably passed by the Krusty Krab and noticed that it already has a second floor, a more luxurious ambiance, and extra parking space beside its second building. Hm. Not bad for a cheapskate like Mr. Krabs. It was closed. It must be Sunday today.

I went back to see the home I used to live in, Chum Bucket. It was already in ruins. The dark blue paint has completely peeled through Nature's course, revealing the rusty metal foundations. No one has ever really bothered to renovate the building or bulldoze it in the ten years I have not been here. I entered the ruins and pushed the door that fell on the ground. Its hinges have already rusted away. I stepped into the rooms that have gathered molds on the derelict walls. The place that was once a cafeteria where I was supposed to serve my imaginary customers is more dilapidated than I ever thought it would be. In fact, even when I used to live here, it's already barren. I went into the room where Karen is supposed to be and instead, I saw a broken monitor that is lopsided on the wall, as if it will fall off in just a few more days' time. Tears filled my eye as I saw the sight of her completely ruined beyond repair.

Even if she is a computer, she is my wife after all, and I would still hate to see her like this. Even if she never really lived and is just a fancy machine who was there for me after I lost my erstwhile best friend, I still had that strange feeling of cloying sentimentality and mourning one feels after losing a loved one. I did my best to shrug off those cheesy thoughts from my head, but I fell down the ground and continued to weep, try as I might to hold back the tears. Oh, who am I kidding? This is not the attitude of someone who is bent on ruling the world! I searched amongst the debris for signs of hope that I could still repair her even at this state. I soon found a strange box that is still in perfect condition. It asked me to enter a security code so that I can access its contents. There was a note engraved at the bottom of the box which says that the contents of this box are from Karen to me and that the security code is the sum of the year when we first met and the year we got married. The box opened as soon as I finished entering the code. I found a piece of paper neatly folded inside the box.

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_[Author's Note: So I will begin replying to reviews here again, just like the old days, but no longer in the rude manner that I used to do. It's quite a breath of fresh air and a heartwarming feeling to see two reviews here so far which are both good. Yay! (does happy air guitar/dance)_

_Pyrze4132 - Thank you for your kind words and for encouraging me to carry on. Sorry for all the times I've been rude to you before, as with all the others who just want to help me out and clung to their faith in humanity. Thank you, also, for adding this story to your favorites. I'm glad you're enjoying so far._

_Gokiburi Prince - Your commentary is hilarious and I agree with everything there. About SpongeNSpongeGirl, she's getting way too much hate for someone with some potential. She's been improving lately. Truth is, it's Monica Gilbey-Bieber who really deserves the hate had she been a real person._

_On another note, I still make the mistake of writing eyes instead of eye when Plankton has only one eye. Please point out any of these errors if they still exist and I'll get to fixing them.]_


	4. Chapter 4: The Paper

**CHAPTER 4 – THE PAPER**

I unfolded the paper and laid it down on the ground similarly to how a normal-sized creature would lay a carpet down. I started to read the writings on the paper and did my best to make out some of the letters that were partly erased by the creases.

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_Dear Sheldon,_

_It's been quite some time since I've started to live alone without a master to program me. You have been imprisoned some time ago after another failed attempt to completely rule the world. Throughout that time I spent without you, I busied myself thinking of ways to break you out of jail. One day, I prepared my arsenal of best weapons I could use to coerce the cops to set you free. They adamantly said that you weren't there. I destroyed many police equipment and stunned them to make a quick getaway upon the realization that they were telling the truth that you've been transferred to Neptune's dungeon, an inescapable prison guarded by no other than Neptune's power itself._

_I soon got on the Bikini Bottom's Most Wanted list for destruction of police property. I became a fugitive, but I was eventually able to muster up the courage to go straight to Neptune's palace and confront the King himself. With just one shot of a laser from his trident, I was weakened. My best weapons were nothing against a single burst of energy from his three-pronged spear. I gave up the fight immediately before anything else happens._

_Being a fugitive in all the seven seas and being bereft of you, I decided that it's time for me to move on and find a new master. Machines like me are useless if we don't have anyone to share our features and bytes with. I decided to travel to the land above and start anew. As soon as I got up to the shores, a human who was just splashing about the shallow waters immediately picked me up and was astonished about the fact that I still function despite being submerged underwater. He noticed that I'm a gadget that is way ahead of its time with features that have not even been introduced to land machines._

_It felt good to be used again and to make someone's life easier. He took me to his home and dried me before he plugged me to another computer that shared information with me. The more I was plugged to that computer, the stronger and better I felt. It's as though every cell in my complex, metallic body is being recharged. Inevitably, the two of us- me and that rather handsome, sleek computer developed a bond so strong which humans called synchronizing. For machines like me, it's something quite similar to love or friendship, which must be the force that bonds living creatures like you and keeps the world going on. If there's anything I learned from being up here on the land, it's the importance of living for others and of sharing. I have realized that life itself lacks a purpose if it wasn't one that has been lived for others. If none of us in this world have ever lived for another, none of us would even exist in the first place._

_I might be getting a little too philosophical right now. So, one night, as my owner was asleep, I remembered everything that we have been through. Despite the fact that I already have a new life completely free from the shackles of undersea life, I can't help but still remember you, the protozoan I have spent almost all my life with. Even if my new master already deleted my accessible data, all my memories related to my experiences with you are still __at the back of my processing unit_. I actually have a feature where previously deleted data isn't really entirely deleted and can easily be restored in a secret database. 

_I've pondered for all those years what became of you, pitifully rotting away in prison without anyone caring at all, living in loneliness and just waiting impatiently for the Flying Dutchman to finally collect your soul. Even if I'm already living a good life up here, I can't help but still feel the same sorrow from time to time, try as I might to completely move on._

_Further into that same night, I traveled back to Bikini Bottom, typed this note, printed it out, and decided to drop it here in the Chum Bucket, which was already in ruins by the time I was finally able to visit again, about six years after you've been incarcerated. I saw the broken monitor that used to be the face of mine that you often turned to for solace after every bitter failure. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to send this note to the palace because, as I've said, I'm a wanted criminal in Bikini Bottom. I'm obviously off-limits to the palace. They have the best security system in the world, so even if I'm actually a security computer myself, I still can't sneak through the impeccable deterrents surrounding the palace walls. Besides, if I could actually sneak into the palace, I could have broken you out of prison instead of writing you this melodramatic note. There are actually posters everywhere about the fact that I'm a wanted criminal. If you have not noticed them, it's probably because they look much like creatively-done computer ads instead of actual police wanted posters._

_I'm sorry, Sheldon, but you will never be able to see me again. It's time for us to part ways. I will go back to the land after dropping this note off. I know for a fact that chances are you'll never get to read this last farewell note if Neptune doesn't let you go, which is highly likely to happen. But if you do, remember that there is a reason for everything. There has got to be a reason why you were freed by Neptune and why, by instinct, you have went back home. You will also have to move on with your life._

_It's not that my life became better once I've decided to move on, but it's just that, as a computer, making someone's life easier is what gives me a sense of purpose. I still love you in my own way even if you are just a distant memory. I will never forget all the times we've been through, from the moment we met at the dumps where you used to sell burgers to the time you've finally been arrested after a short-lived rule as king of Planktopolis. I remember how I finished all your battles for you back in high school, that day we got married, and how I stood by you through thick and thin. You may have taken me for granted sometimes, refused to listen to me, and even cheated on me with Mr. Krabs's mother, but in the end, I still choose to remember all the good times we've had together that are too much for this piece of paper._

_Goodbye, Sheldon. I wish you the best for whatever happens for the rest of your life. I know it's tough to live alone without anyone to be there for you, but everyone has those days.  
_

_Your computer wife, Karen_

* * *

I continued to weep as I read the letter. It turns out that Karen isn't really dead, but only the facade of her that is there by my side is. It turns out that she has already moved on away from me. She might not directly say it, but I know that she is already a success without me, just like everyone else. I know that she is happier without me.

I was struck the most by what she said about living alone and living for others. Come to think about it, I have lived alone for almost all my life. I lived without caring for everyone else. But at this point of my life, I'm already old and shriveled up. There are no more chances for me to turn my life back around. All I see ahead of me in the journey of life is a dead end. There is no more moving forward either. I am stuck in a stagnant and hopeless state. Everyone, even my own wife, has already left me behind. My life is one full of bitter failures and regrets, from my youth to my old age. Not even once have I considered myself truly happy. Neptune was right. I'm not really free; I just got transferred to a bigger prison where my torment is to see everyone leave me behind and not need me anymore. I saw everyone become a success; even that blasted cousin of Spongebob who ruins everything he touches.

* * *

_[Author's Note: First of all, thank you for all the good reviews that motivate me to keep writing. I know that reviews should not be my primary reason to write, but I should write because it is my passion. However, seeing you guys enjoying my story, in a way, gives me a sense of purpose. Just like Karen said in this letter, it is important to live for others and to share what you know in order to make a difference to their lives. I do believe that a life lived for only the self is a useless life. __Now, to reply to your reviews:  
_

_Coralline Slayer - Damn, you should have continued your really entertaining commentary! But I'm glad that you have gotten rid of one of your burdens though.  
_

_Third Kind - What's your deviantart?  
_

_E350 - Hey, I remember you! You used to flame my trollfic a lot! It sure feels great to see things change for the better now that you're enjoying my fanfic.  
_

_Katrina - I love your ideas. I'm actually thinking of writing a Spongebob/Fairly Odd Parents crossover once I finish this. As for Eugene Krabs, those events will come soon. Just not this chapter yet. I've already thought this story through from start to finish. I'm just posting it now and thinking of ways to incorporate your wonderful idea into my fanfic.  
_

_On another note, when I was proofreading this chapter, I read the entire letter in Karen's voice.  
_


	5. Chapter 5: Stanley's Scrap Shop

**CHAPTER 5- STANLEY'S SCRAP SHOP**

The next day, I left the debris of my former home and brought the letter with me back to the dumps where Stanley works. I went in the store where he sells the recycled goods processed from garbage. Stanley himself was manning the counter that day along with another fish.

"Hello?" I said.

"What can I do for you Sir?" Stanley replied. "Wait? Who's this? Is this some kind of a joke?"

"I'm down here! Look down!"

"Oh! A moving piece of paper!"

"There's someone holding the piece of paper!" I shouted angrily.

Stanley went out of the counter area and sat on the floor. Even if he did just that, his tall, slender figure still seemed to impose itself upon me.

"Oh. I'm sorry about that. So, what can I do for you, Sir?"

"Since I heard that you ruin almost everything you touch, can I enter the factory, jump into the pool of garbage, and get processed into something more useful? Throughout my life, I've felt nothing but bitterness and failure. I'm no different from the garbage piles you process in your factory. Nobody needs me. In all these years, I've done nothing."

"Well, neither have I. You are right. I do ruin everything I touch, but I soon discovered that I can make a living out of it by processing garbage, and just look at how big the factory is now. What I would do is to simply touch the garbage as soon as they are dumped into a huge bucket and get them sent off to the nearby machines to process them into the stuff I sell here. And I can assure you that everything here is safe to use and is sold for reasonable prices. Sandy made me these special 'ruin-proof' gloves that I wear when I would man the counter."

"You didn't answer my question. All you did is to advertise your successful business," I replied with a bitter tone in my voice.

"I was just about to get to that part," Stanley continued. "No, we don't allow living creatures to jump into the garbage pool and get processed no matter how much they consider themselves as garbage. My point with whatever I said a while ago is that you choose how you react to the painful truths in your life and how, in the end, you use them to turn your sad life around."

"Dude, I'd like to buy this hat," a customer said, interrupting Stanley.

"That would be $3.99," Stanley replied. "Just pay for that to Dale, over there. I'm kinda busy here."

"Thanks, man," the customer said as he gave the money to Dale, other guy who was manning the register.

"Sorry about that," Stanley continued. "However, if you intend to throw away the paper you're holding, that would be absolutely free of charge. Useless love letters? Gifts from a former lover? Debris from breaking stuff during that last fit of rage? Used toilet paper? Bring them all to me and I will destroy them all for you. They will be completely forgotten once they have been processed into completely different products."

"Okay, that's good enough," I replied. I handed over the note from Karen and watched it go down in flames as soon as Stanley took off his gloves and touched the letter. "Wait, why didn't you include that in the processing pool? Why let it just burn to ashes?"

"Tough love," Stanley replied as the last of the note turned into ash. "You must be so bitter because your wife left you. I'm just sure you would enjoy seeing this note burnt down to ashes instead of being mass-processed with other pieces of garbage."

"There's more to my depression than just that. Goodbye, Stanley," I said with a tone of despair.

"Man, poor guy. I hope he doesn't do anything to himself..." Stanley said softly as he went back to the counter area.

I walked out of the store and just went through the holes of the factory fence. I sneaked into the garbage pile that is about to be processed. I didn't even mind the stench anymore because it will be gone soon. There's no more turning back. Besides, there is nothing to turn back to anyway. Here goes nothing...

"Garbage pile will be processed in three... Two... One..."

A sudden glow of red, fiery light blinded me. I felt a burning pain like no other in my life. My already feeble body is being further disintegrated by the intense heat. There was nothing but pain, silence, and darkness.

After what seemed to be about an hour, the pain was completely gone. I felt like I was floating in the middle of pitch-black nothingness. For the first time in my life, I felt truly free, although I'm not exactly sure if I'm still alive, if this is some form of trance, or if I've finally passed on. I floated about in all sorts of directions and moved freely. I felt like I could fly and do whatever I want, only without me being able to see any color other than black, but that was okay.

A glowing, green cube suddenly appeared right in front of me. I flew towards the mysterious bright object floating about in the nothingness. Before I was able to touch it, another one of those glowing green cubes appeared. More and more of them appeared until I realized that I was aboard a floating green ship that materialized in this strange dimension.

"Mr. Sheldon James Plankton!" a thunderous, eerie voice cut through the silence as a cloud of green dust surrounded me. The fog soon cleared up and showed The Flying Dutchman. "You have chosen to come here to this place of eternal sleep. It's now time for me to transport you to your final destination: Davy Jones's Locker."

The Flying Dutchman opened a portal that led to the cavern which must be his living quarters. It had a rocking chair, an end table, a shelf full of knickknacks and a locker which must be Davy Jones's Locker. He opened the locker. Screaming voices of souls in anguish filled the air along with the putrid smell of gym socks that were never washed in what seemed to be over a hundred years.

"Get in or else I'll have to push you inside," The Flying Dutchman said as he pointed to the interior of the locker. "Accept it, puny creature; you have imposed this fate upon yourself. You should have known the price of your depraved deeds."


	6. Chapter 6: Davy Jones's Locker

**CHAPTER 6 – DAVY JONES'S LOCKER**

"Please give me another chance at life!" I wept as I knelt down and begged for mercy. "I don't want to get in Davy Jones's Locker and be one with other souls in eternal despair. I only plunged myself into the garbage processing pool because I want to be free from my horrible life. I just want something better, and being in that locker for the rest of eternity is NOT my definition of something better."

"But it was your choice to be miserable," The Flying Dutchman said. "You have been given near-endless opportunities to reconcile with your old buddy Eugene Harold Krabs, and yet you chose to blow them all away with your sad attempts to steal the Krabby Patty formula that was the ruins of your friendship. Every second you have been given in this life was a chance for you to turn your life around. You have heard advice from Neptune and even Stanley about how to deal with your situation now. You've just committed the ultimate act of selfishness by bringing yourself here to escape the giant prison cell known as your life."

"Stop it with that bunch of blasted, Neptune-damned baloney!" I said angrily as I stood up from my mortifying, sorrowful surrender. "Those words are useless to me now. If you are not going to give me that second chance, then fine! Send me away to the farthest depths of Davy Jones's Locker! You could have just said that I will not be given the second chance, but instead, you give me useless advice that I will never follow! All you ever did was shove my failures into my shriveled, bearded face! And selfish? How am I being selfish when I just did this for the betterment of the world? Nobody needs me anyway. Everyone hates me!"

"Come to think about it, yes. I should stop talking now and send you away already," The Flying Dutchman said as he stroked his beard while in deep thought. "You're acting like you don't deserve that second chance anyway. You asked for this moment by jumping into the garbage pile, but now you are asking to go back to the sea. That's how you are being selfish. The only reason you are really doing this is yourself. Everything you do is for yourself. No one else. And that is why you feel that no one needs you. Everybody hates you because of your selfishness."

"But how about my wife? Of everything in the world, she is the only one that stood up for me and actually cared for me. She is a one-of-kind computer that actually has a heart because of the unusually lifelike way that she feels love. Somehow, she saved me from some amounts of loneliness for most of my life when she helped me finish my battles for me. No one else really cared for me since I was young. Everybody made fun of me, and the worst thing, really, that happened to me is that time I fought with my one and only best friend who will eventually turn out to be the reason why I'm so miserable! Sure, there may be times I took her for granted and cheated on her, but I love her! I was the one who was there for her when she needed repairs. I may seem heartless on the outside because of how the world made me, but it now saddens me to know that she's gone away from my life! She's found someone else! It kills me inside to know that the only one who's always been there has moved on! That is why I'm here now! Not even the one I love needs me anymore!"

The Flying Dutchman took a paper from a drawer in his end table and read aloud what was on it.

"The note from Karen? But how? I already threw that away and even saw it burn in flames!"

"Aren't you forgetting that this is another dimension?" The Flying Dutchman replied. "You're too quick to jump to conclusions. For your age, you are way beyond immature. Didn't you read the whole thing carefully? Karen herself said that she was never really happy up there because she misses you. She does her best to move on and live anew now that she's no longer welcome in the seven seas. She does feel good about her new life now, but that is different from being truly happy. Her true happiness lies in being with you. Even if you take her for granted at times, what gives her a sense of purpose in life is to live for you. She does feel a new sense of purpose by being with her new-found owner, but things for her are never really the same without you. She misses finishing your battles for you, cheering you up, and reassuring you time and time again that everything will be okay. Having a good time is different from happiness in such a way that having a good time is a fleeting experience, while happiness is a state of mind."

"Enough with the cloying sentimentality!" I replied in a disgusted manner. "The only thing that she wants to tell me through that cursed note is that she's leaving me behind for something else, something that is also of her kind, something far superior to me. It only makes enough sense that a computer will fall for another computer, that is, if computers actually have hearts."

"But what about everything you've told me about Karen? Isn't that a form of cloying sentimentality? Anyway, all the things I've said are true. There is still someone out there who needs you, even if she is a computer. Now, let me ask you this: why did you cheat on her in the first place? It's most likely because you want a real woman. Well, that was your actual motivation at first until you decided to grab that opportunity to get the formula and fail yet again. There's something missing in your life, and you decided to fill that void by cheating on her with your enemy's mother. Karen also felt the same way and did the same thing, only with another computer. Now, there _is_ a reason why you had to read that note. She wants you to know that even if she is no longer by your side, you are never really alone in the world because there is still something out there that sees your significance and still thinks of you every day," The Flying Dutchman then paused for a while and drank some rum.

"Do you want some?" he said as he offered me some of the liquor that he carefully poured into a miniature figurine of a goblet from his shelf of knickknacks.

"Uh, sure," I said reluctantly as I took the cup and drank. "So are you giving me the second chance?"

"After so much pondering, yes," The Flying Dutchman said. "I'll send you back to the material world. However, there are certain conditions. If you attempt in any way to steal the Krabby Patty Formula, you will go straight to Davy Jones's Locker with no more turning back. I'm giving you this final chance in order for you to turn your life back around, so do whatever you can in order for you to be truly happy- anything which does not involve stealing secret formulas or planning world domination. I will give you a hint on this one, though: it has something to do with letting go. Once you let go of the burdens you carry on your feeble back, you will feel great. You will be truly free. You will also have to start off with absolutely nothing. You will have to live a new kind of life, something completely different from how you used to be. Pursue a new passion. Do something you've never tried to do. Do you remember C'ren, otherwise known as Kataryna, that girl from the last book you've read?"

"You mean _that _ridiculous barnacle head from _One Less Lonely Gurl_ who makes _me _look sane, at least in the parallel universe where the story was supposed to be set?" I said in surprise. "Why? What does _she_ have to do with my situation now? She is just a fictional character that someone wrote about for this year's worst novel contest!"

"She is so much like you, a bitter failure who only has dreams to turn her life around but no will to do something about it. She has been doing the same washed-up method with the same useless motivation for all those years even beyond her prime, and so had you. For almost all your life, you have spent the days doing the same thing over and over again. Nothing ever worked out for you, and neither has anything worked out for her. Perhaps, if you grab this chance and seize every day, you will see significant changes in your life and find that you are actually happy. But in the end, it's your choice to accept this ultimate opportunity or not. Goodbye for now, Sheldon."

Everything slowly faded back to black. As soon as I opened my eye, I was back in the debris of my old home. I looked at myself and noticed that all my burns have been healed and that my skin has turned slightly greener as if I'm slowly aging in reverse. I still have the beard, although it's slightly shorter than how it used to be. I just knew that this is my chance to redeem myself.

With a deep breath, I left my house and stood still in the middle of the streets, not knowing where to begin with the new life I've been given. I wondered how my life would be like if I would quit attempting to steal the formula and turn over a new leaf for real. Would I really find my happiness this way? I was still uncertain if this is going to work out for me, but it would be better to take this very rare chance now that I don't know how much time I have left on this earth anyway.

* * *

_[Author's Note: I might be on hiatus for quite a bit because my internet connection sucks. I'm just fortunate enough to be able to connect to the net today. Meanwhile, I will leave you guys with the first three chapters of my own commentary on One Less Lonely Gurl and an official artwork of C'ren Amethyst LeHeart Bieber, if anyone of you are curious about how she looks like in dream mode, all of which are on my blog. (remove spaces) http: / trollseyeview. blogspot. com_

_Now... Review Replies!_

_Dimentio713 - Thank you. That means a lot to me._

_Pyrze4132 - I thought I'm the only one who did._

_On another note, I think I just found the most epic troll ever, Todd, the one and only author of My Immortal. He's XXXmidnitegoffXXX. I'm really hoping this awesome guy IS Tara for real.]  
_


	7. Chapter 7: Temptations

**CHAPTER 7 - TEMPTATIONS**

Everything suddenly went dark as I felt a sudden, sharp pain that flattened my whole body. I screamed as the pain continued; repeating itself like a hammer pounding against me, with each hit sharing a rhythm with every step taken by whoever trampled on me. I didn't even notice that he was there beforehand because he was behind me. My face was repetitively scraped against the rough gravel road. My beard only made things worse whenever it would get pulled as he takes another step. My useless screams seemed to be unheard.

Soon enough, he knew that something was odd. There was someone under the sole of his shoe. He peeled me off as though I was discarded chewing gum. I was still paper-thin when he lay me down on the palm of his hand. My vision cleared eventually, and I saw that it was Spongebob who trampled on me.

"Hey there, little one!" Spongebob said in his usual, cheerful way. "What's an old man like you doing in the streets all alone?"

"None of your business," I replied angrily as I reverted back to my sausage shape. Because of old age, I already take a longer time to revert back to my original shape after being trampled on. "Now, put me down! I can handle myself!"

"Whoa, you are a cranky one!" Spongebob said in surprise. "Maybe a Krabby Patty will cheer you up!"

I fell silent for quite a bit. This offer was simply too tempting for me to resist. For all these years, I've always wanted to get the formula to a Krabby Patty... No! I shouldn't, lest I go straight to Davy Jones's Locker!

"No thanks," I replied, doing my best to actually mean it. We were already inside the Krusty Krab. The temptation was simply becoming more powerful, but I had to resist. "I'm broke. Besides, it's not exactly a good thing to get food from a restaurant without paying for it, right?"

Those words felt so forced and so out of character for me, as though I was a very bad actor forced to act like his exact opposite. However, perhaps I should feel this awkwardness if I really am to redeem myself. Change can't happen all at once, but someone who must have been very wise once said that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a simple step, and I will start my journey today.

"Okay then," Spongebob said. "But where will you go now? The least I can do is to take you there, and I'm sorry if I hurt you, okay?"

"Nowhere," I replied, doing my best to hold back my tears. "I have... nowhere to go. But as I said, I can handle myself. Now, put me down!"

Spongebob was dumbfounded. He was frozen for a few minutes, thinking of what to do. He then put me down on the wooden floors of the restaurant.

"If you say so..." Spongebob said, heading off to the kitchen in a hurry to start another busy day's worth of work.

Mr. Krabs got in the restaurant some moments later. He has changed a lot in the past decade too. He was wearing a black tuxedo with a gold-framed monocle and was also sporting a French mustache. He retained the shiny, scarlet luster of his shell. I waited by the door of his office. I was hoping to reconcile with him once and for all so that I will no longer want to steal the formula. The truth is, I've always wanted to get that formula because I want to rule the world. Everyone considered me a loser for all my life, and I wanted that to change by proving them wrong when they all bow down to me and when I avenge myself after my only friend betrayed me. Well, I still want that to change. If I reconcile with Mr. Krabs already and restore a friendship that has been lost a very long time ago, I might be able to find the formula... not for a Krabby Patty but for turning my life back around and for the pursuit of my true happiness. I contemplated on everything I wanted to tell my old friend. I'm not even sure if he would believe me anyway after all the times I've been lying to everyone just to try to get my way but fail in the end again and again. As soon as he got in, the door slammed against me when I attempted to get in. I slipped under a tiny opening below the door.

His office had bookshelves filled with economics books and biographies of millionaires, one of himself included. There were numerous safes stacked on top of each other in one corner of the office, and one of them must contain the secret formula... I immediately shrugged off those thoughts from my head as soon as they got to me. With all these temptations surrounding me, it's too hard to simply forget how I used to live my life. I can't believe I'm thinking this, but I miss those old days of trying to steal that formula. In a way, even if I failed again and again, that was the only thing that gave me the motivation to continue living. That was the only kind of life I knew how to live.

However, now that I've accepted the second chance that The Flying Dutchman gave me, I have to do this. He told me to try something that I've never done before. One thing I've never tried is to truly reconcile with Mr. Krabs. I've tried to do that back then, though, when I attempted to quit the culinary business and went on to selling knickknacks, but I ended up giving in to temptation when I ended up asking Mr. Krabs for the secret formula down at the pier where we used to hang out a lot when we were kids. This time, in trying something new, I will do my best not to give in to the temptations everywhere. The aroma of Krabby Patties soon filled the air, and I felt myself crave for one. I wanted to savor its mouthwatering flavor.

Again, I did my best to shrug those cravings off my head. I've been standing by the door for about five minutes already with these thoughts flooding my head. Mr. Krabs was already busy processing some documents and counting money while reclining comfortably on his executive chair. I shook in nervousness and anxiety. I was worried about how he would react to seeing me again after ten years.

I took a deep breath as I approached the desk. I climbed on the horizontal railings of his ornate, wooden desk. I caught up for breath as soon as I reached the top.

"What do you want, Spongebob? Haven't you heard of knocking?" Mr. Krabs said when he heard my loud breaths. He was still facing backwards. He spun his chair around to face the desk, only to be surprised by me. "Plankton! What are you doing here? Try and steal the formula again? It's been ten years! I thought you were still in prison!" Even with my beard, wrinkles, and liver spots, he was still able to recognize me, whereas Spongebob didn't.

"Neptune set me free," I replied nervously. I cleared my throat and took another deep breath. I fell silent for a few minutes. I forgot everything I was supposed to say after.

"Really? He did? Now, what do you want?"

"I came here to say..." I took yet another deep breath. "...that I'm sorry. I didn't come here to steal the formula for the Krabby Patty. I just want to reconcile again with an old friend. It's been a very long time... And I just thought I should..."

"Nice try, Plankton!" Mr. Krabs said suspiciously, interrupting me. "But I will not fall for another convoluted ruse of yours, even if it's been ten years since anyone tried to steal the formula!"

He lifted me by my antennae, walked to the front door, and with a drinking straw he often keeps handy in his pocket, he launched me back to my old home like a spitball.

"Curse you, Mr. Krabs!" I shouted in midair just like in the old days. I landed on the rusty metal floors of my old home.

I buried my face in the pile of debris and cried alone. Unlike the old days, there was no one for me to call. Karen was no longer there to reassure me time and time again that my next plan will succeed. What hurts me even more was that I was no longer there to steal the secret formula. I was there to steal our friendship back from the sands of time.

"This isn't working out at all!" I cried to no one in particular. My voice echoed throughout the ruined laboratory. That was the ultimate sign that I'm all alone now. "All I wanted was to be happy again after so many years!"

I looked at the broken monitor and imagined everything as it was eleven years ago, before I even attempted to execute Plan Z. Karen was still there. I imagined her robotic yet almost lifelike voice comforting me. That was the only voice that ever pronounced the sounds of love and appreciation for me. All other voices that I've heard in my life besides that of my own parents are those of scorn and hatred.

"I knew I should have just attempted to steal the formula again when Spongebob offered me a Krabby Patty! Davy Jones's Locker is better than here!" I said to the blank, shattered former face of Karen. Her empty, dead stare was black as night; black as my hopeless situation. "At least I'm not alone there! At least the screams of anguish will remind me that there are many more who are like me!"

"Don't give up," a mysterious voice that sounded like Karen replied. "You took this chance. What's important is that you did. Try and try; fail and fail... Try and try again..."

I looked around to see if there's anyone around. There was only me. But where did that beloved voice come from? This voice must be nothing, then, but a figment of my own imagination!

"You're only telling me things I already know!" I replied to the mysterious voice. "And that's not working out for me anymore!"

There was no reply from that voice whatsoever. I must be going insane! I broke into random laughter for no apparent reason. I couldn't stop myself even if there's nothing funny about my whole situation! The voices in my head continued to disturb me, sending me further down into spiraling depression. I seemed to have lost control of myself. I lay down on the ground and contorted into a fetal position. My whole body was shaking. Everything fell silent when the desperate, reasonless laughter stopped.

"Boo!" a voice in my head spoke again, breaking the complete silence that seemed to have lasted about an hour or so.

I screamed in fright as I ran away from my home as fast as I could. I don't even know where I'm going anymore. My life was now devoid of all direction, but if I take chances, perhaps my stubby feet can lead me to the formula for my happiness. Perhaps I should go to a place... a place far, far away from everything I used to know. Perhaps a new atmosphere will change the way I see my life.

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_[Author's Note: Okay, so I'm back! Hopefully I will be able to update faster now!_

_Third Kind - Thank you for motivating me to keep writing. I never knew that I could actually write to make someone root for the villain in the series canon!_

_On another note, I think I used the word temptation around six times in this chapter, including the chapter title and the one in this author's note. Oh, and check out Tara/Todd's commentary on Jo Bel's horrid fanfic, which is a lot worse than the combined forces of One Less Lonely Gurl and My Immortal! Character profile of Jo Bel is in my blog now!]_


	8. Chapter 8: The First Simple Joy

**CHAPTER 8 – THE FIRST SIMPLE JOY**

I hitched another free ride on a bus as soon as I got to the bus stop near the outskirts of Bikini Bottom. Just like last time, I sat underneath the regular seats. I was very tired even though the sun was still way up in the sky. I did my best to forget about that five-minute fit of insanity that I went through. I wanted to forget everything that happened in my past. I wanted to forget all about today- my very first frustration in this second life. A place far, far away from Bikini Bottom will help me forget all about Mr. Krabs's triangular shape and shiny crimson skin embellished with the garments of success. Soon enough, his vivid, hostile, unforgiving image will be blurred out of my mind and be fully effaced; completely replaced by the things that will happen in the future. I just needed to get that sledgehammer and bulldoze the red, brick wall standing in front of me in my journey across life.

I closed my eye and searched for some solace inside my head. I thought of the things that will make me happy even just in my dreams. I dreamt that I was in an empty, white space. I was all alone, when a floating Krabby Patty suddenly appeared right in front of me. Many more of those burgers also appeared, similar to how those mysterious green cubes appeared in my supposed afterlife before I was almost sent to Davy Jones's Locker. I shook my head in disapproval. These wretched patties have brought me nothing but misery! I have spent all my life trying to know what these things are made of! I hitched a ride on this bus to forget everything about these despicable things!

I looked for something else. I jumped on each of the patties as more and more of them appeared. As I went higher up, a huge screen was becoming more and more visible to me. The stream of Krabby Patties ended like a gradient of black fading to gray and then to white. Up there, I saw Karen staring straight at me in a loving way just like in the old days. She was reassuring me once more that if I try and try again, I will eventually succeed, but I never succeeded. Perhaps it's time for me to give up and try something else.

I shrugged her empty reassurance off, knowing that she, in this dimension, was nothing more than a figment of my imagination. The real Karen has gone away, being a fugitive in the seven seas. After all, this whole white space was _nothing_ but a figment of _my_ imagination. It's time for me to give up my old ways and look for a new one. I opened my eye and just stood by, waiting until the last passengers of the bus have already alighted and the bus returns to its station so that the bus driver can ready himself to start yet another long day on the road. I snuck out of the bus unnoticed again.

I left the dark bus station and looked around the new place I have brought myself to. It was a whole new city completely different from Bikini Bottom. There were neon lights everywhere and different genres of music blaring through the speakers of almost every shop and club there. Crowds of fish and all sorts of sea creatures went about their nights. It was a bustling, lively place that also seemed cold and uninviting at the same time. I walked around the streets, dodging every step from the seemingly-callous creatures.

I smelled the flavorful aroma of hearty tomato soup being served at the nearby diner. I looked inside and saw a young couple near a window. The female fish pulled down the white blinds, covering themselves and showing nothing but a silhouette of them kissing under a warm pendant light. I looked away immediately lest I wallow in the sadness of the loss of Karen again.

I was already starving. Out of desperation, I went to the back of the diner, hoping to find a dumpster there where I can scavenge perhaps for leftovers. I found something even better though- an air vent. I climbed inside it and walked around, hoping to find where the kitchen is so that I can swipe some food. I saw a light at the end of one of the tunnels and went there, only to see the bathroom below. I immediately averted my eyes and tried another way. This air vent was much more complicated than I thought. I rested for a while. My stomach growled even louder. I knew that I have to eat soon. The aroma of diner food teased me more. I felt the smoke coming from the kitchen caress my almost-invisible nose. I knew that I was already near the kitchen.

I walked straight towards the hole. I looked down to see if there is any chance that I would fall and land on a pot of boiling water or oil. The hot steam went through the vent and scorched me. I decided then that it wasn't the right time to get in the kitchen yet. I waited until closing time, but to no avail. I soon remembered that this was a 24-hour diner. But there has to be some point when this place doesn't have customers, right?

I fell asleep for a while and eventually woke up to someone snoring loudly, which must mean that there are no more customers. I went through the holes and fell on the chrome floor of the kitchen. The head chef was sitting on a wooden chair, fast asleep and snoring loudly, with his mouth agape. The cashier, who was watching a soap opera about cell division at an almost-mute volume, was just on the counter that can be seen from the slightly-opened kitchen door. It was three in the morning, and almost all the lights were turned off except for a few recess lights in the corners so that they could save electricity.

I quietly rummaged the nearby buckets filled with fruits and vegetables. I munched on them, relishing the crunchy consistency of kelp and seaweed with every bite. I also savored a deliciously sour tomato. For the first time in so many years, I've felt some happiness even from a simple source, which is food, even if it's not a Krabby Patty. For all my life, I 'ate' almost nothing but virtual meat loaf. Sometimes, I eat the chum I would prepare myself, but it is simply too foul that even I myself loathe my own cooking.

I then noticed something strange. It seemed that my skin has become more radiant, although still duller than how green my skin used to be back in my youth. My beard has turned into a silvery-light gray compared to the snow white that it used to be. The liver spot on my right forearm slightly lightened. I felt a little bit stronger again. I shrugged this off and just thought of me seeing a strangely, slightly younger appearance of myself as a side effect of not getting a good sleep. I went under the toe kick of the counter where the cashier was and rested there, lulling myself to sleep by listening to the cheesy break-up dialogue of the protozoans featured on early morning TV.

I slept happily for the first time, knowing that I have eaten something somewhat better than anything else in my entire life, whether it was virtual meat loaf, chum, or the gray sludge served to me back in the dungeon. Perhaps the only things that I've eaten that were more satisfying were the sandwiches and all the other meals mom used to make for me back when I was a kid. However, I still had to steal the fruits and vegetables from the buckets because I had no money at all. I wanted something more satisfying than the unsanitary stuff back in the dumpster. I was left hanging in thought. As soon as that crossed my mind, I started to be uncertain if I was happy because I have eaten something good, or if I was happy because I got away with stealing those vegetables, and for the first time in so many years, I succeeded.

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_[Author's Note: Character profile for the infamous Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way is in my blog now!_

_Review replies:  
_

_Page of Darkness – I'm glad you're enjoying this story. Thanks for adding me and this story to your favorites!_

_Third Kind – Wow. That's all._

_On another note, this must be the very first chapter in this story without any dialogue. Plankton must be so lost in thought in this chapter.]_


	9. Chapter 9: City of Apathy

**CHAPTER 9 - CITY OF APATHY**

As early as five in the morning, there were already customers in the diner, ready to start another day. In this new place, it seemed that the townsfolk never get tired. I got awakened by the hustle and bustle in the diner as the retro 50's music began to play again.

I crawled under a tiny opening at the bottom of the glass front door, and outside, boats filled the streets and sounds of horns broke the early morning silence. I went with the flow of the crowds that filled the sidewalks. I didn't even know where I was going because all I could see were the tail-fins of the different kinds of fish.

The crowd eventually cleared up as soon as the morning rush was over and everyone was already at work. I checked myself for bruises or scars that may have been caused by that shuffle. I didn't notice any injury marks, but I noticed that what I saw a while ago is for real. It was true that my skin has turned slightly greener and my beard had a darker color than usual. The liver spot on my right forearm faded. I blinked several times and shook my head because I still thought I was going insane. I wasn't. It seemed that I will look younger with every time that I get to experience joy, even from simple sources.

I didn't know my way at all around this town, so I spent the rest of the day walking around aimlessly. I eventually found a newspaper stall and took a sneak peek at the news, only to be quite surprised about what was there.

* * *

_**Mr. Krabs Hospitalized  
**_  
_Mr. Eugene Harold Krabs, owner of the world-famous Krusty Krab, has been sent to the hospital after he had a heart attack. He was found unconscious by the exit of The Krusty Krab yesterday afternoon._

_"As of this time, we all have to allow the crustacean to have some rest and some time to himself," the head doctor said. "It is with deepest regret that we have to inform you that his chances of recovering are slim, but these chances will widen if he gets enough bed rest and enough medical attention."_

_We have tried to interview Spongebob Squarepants, the restaurant fry cook, but he still refuses to say anything. He was still rendered speechless by this tragic incident..._

* * *

I wasn't able to read the rest of the article because it was partially blocked by the newspaper stand. I didn't know what to feel anymore after seeing such a surprise. I didn't know if I should be happy because my worst enemy was suffering. If I would, then I would be happy for all the wrong reasons. I know for a fact that that wasn't what I should be doing, but I couldn't help it. I was pleasantly surprised that the one who made me miserable for most of my life was now in a pitiful state. I looked at myself to see if I was right about happiness and looking younger. I stayed the same shade of green-gray as I was a while ago.

I left the newspaper store and continued my aimless wandering, doing my best again to completely forget about my past. Even with my old age, I could still clearly remember everything. This new place wasn't helping me so much to start over even if no one really knew me.

I saw a dumpster by the alley and tried to scavenge for food there. When I was about to get the discarded nachos that were on the ground nearby, a group of rabid snails seemingly appeared out of nowhere and gave me angry looks. I ran away as fast as I could as I took one small chip and munched on it. I didn't really care anymore if it was unsanitary. I was hungry, and I had no time to look for the nearest restaurant.

I went further into the depths of this city, and I knew I was completely lost. I didn't know where I was anymore. I didn't even know the name of this place. I was swayed by the crowds numerous times today, and I'm in this street that looked so similar to most of the other streets in this huge city where wide open spaces were rare and sand wasn't as abundant as back in Bikini Bottom. Almost everything here was made of concrete and metal.

The neon lights were turned on again as the sky blackened. The sea creatures were all decked out in their party wear again after switching from their gray corporate wear. This seemed to be the normal lifestyle of the ones living here- work all day and party all night with just very few hours of sleep.

I went to yet another dark alley that was just barely lit by a dim lamp contrary to most of the neon-filled boulevards and heard some loud snoring. I smelled something foul coming from a cardboard box that seemed strategically placed under the tiny sconce. Out of curiosity, I went to see what was inside. I silently opened the makeshift door cut through the box. It was strange that the door seemed to be made for someone my size. The inside was just an empty, brown space with holes in the 'ceiling' where the dim light went through and lit the inside of this box. There was someone fast asleep in this box with an old newspaper as a blanket, and he was another one of my species. He was old and shriveled just like me, but with dull, brown skin and a full, white beard. He was rectangular in shape.

I didn't want to interrupt his sleep, so I decided to silently leave his makeshift home and I camped just outside it. Today has been quite a tiring day, and I tried to process everything that happened on this very long day, from the time I swiped food in the diner, woke up in the toe kick of the counter, learned that Mr. Krabs had been hospitalized, and just spent most of the time aimlessly wandering. I realized that I had been silent the whole day. There was really no one to talk to in this town, but it was also here when I was reassured that I'm not really alone. For the first time in so many years, I've felt sorry for someone in a big city that seemed to be filled with apathy.


	10. Chapter 10: Kindred Spirits

**CHAPTER 10 - KINDRED SPIRITS**

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" the brown protozoan said as he hit me with a roll of the newspaper he used as a blanket, waking me up. It was already morning, but his shadow darkened my surroundings a little; making it seem like it was still night when my eye was still closed.

"What did you do that for?" I shouted angrily. "I'm homeless, a wanderer in this big city! Isn't it obvious?"

"Obviously, but who are you?" he asked in a slightly vexed manner so early in the morning.

"Why should I tell you?" I replied, also just as annoyed.

"I'm also lost in this huge place. I just found this box yesterday by the dumps and made a makeshift shelter out of it. I would have let you in, but I guess I was already asleep when you got to this alley."

"How long have you been here, anyway?"

"I can't even remember," he replied. "It must have been a very, very long time already, and my sense of direction must be getting poorer and poorer with old age..."

"Okay, I'm Sheldon," I said as he gained my trust a little. "And you are?"

"I'm... Howard," he replied. It must have been tough for the poor old guy to remember even his own name.

Silence filled the alley for several minutes, but we weren't silent because we had a deep understanding of each other that no more words were needed to express our profound brotherhood. We were silent because we simply didn't know what to tell each other. The silence was a very awkward one.

"Okay, now what?" I asked, breaking the lonely quietness.

"I have no idea," he replied. "We both have nowhere to go in this big city. Besides, retirement homes are too expensive, and I guess neither of us have the money to afford them."

"Why?" I asked worriedly. "Don't you have any family to back you up?"

"I never had one..." he replied as tears began to flow from his hazel green eye.

I wiped away the tear for him using the newspaper.

"Thank you for being the very first one in this place as far as I could recall, to be kind to me and to even care in the first place. Thank you for having the time to listen to me," he said.

"Back in the place I used to live in, no one would ever describe me as someone kind and caring," I replied, brushing off an undeserved compliment. "To tell you the truth, I've lived almost all my life as a bitter failure, rejected by society. I lived almost all my life alone. No one was ever kind to me, so I was never really kind to them either. It's hard to be kind to those who hate you and make fun of you."

"This city has no room for the little ones like except for this alley," he said. "We always get trampled on as if we are..."

"Discarded chewing gum," the two of us said simultaneously, completing the sentence.

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us out of here," I reassured him.

"How? This is a big place that is so easy to get lost in! We are small creatures in this town that towers over us from all corners. We're stuck here! We'll be in this alley for the rest of our lives because it's safer here and only very few fish pass here. The blinding neon lights don't shine here too, so this place is perfect for me to live in. I'm a bitter failure too!"

He started crying right in front of me, thinking that there was no more hope for him. We only knew each other for about half an hour now, but it felt as though we are already close friends. We simply understood each other so well even though things started a little rough and awkward for both of us. I patted his back, doing my best to reassure him that everything will be okay.

"It looks like we will have to make do with what we have," I replied in despair. With so little resources, I knew that making the micro hover boat I was planning to invent would probably take a longer time than whatever I have left in my life, considering that I'm already old.

I was happy to meet Howard, though, because I have seen for myself that I'm not really alone, that in all these years, there is actually someone out there who actually shares my problems. Times must have been much tougher for him because he never had a computer wife to reassure him time and time again that everything will be okay. He didn't even have a family to care for him in his old age. At least I was fed regularly back in prison no matter how unpalatable the gray sludge was, and Doubloon Swallowin' Misty was there to talk to me, sometimes. I didn't hit on her though because she is married, and so am I, although my wife is a machine. I learned the hard way that cheating leads to dire consequences. It's just that I was actually alone in a small prison cell that was about the size of an average cinder block, so I sometimes couldn't help but feel alone in a claustrophobic space.

"Is it just me... or is your skin slightly greener than it was a few minutes ago?" Howard asked in awe. I looked at myself and realized the trend. It seemed that every time I would be genuinely happy for a good reason, my skin would gradually return to its former vibrant, greenish complexion as an additional reward from The Flying Dutchman. I figured out that the reason I had been happy back in the diner was the food. My success with stealing the food had nothing to do with it. Besides, I only stole the food out of desperation and hunger. I know for a fact that hunger can lead anyone to do crazy things.

"Maybe the sun is just starting to shine brighter as it rises," I replied, doing my best to hide the fact that I am on a mission given to me by The Flying Dutchman.

I felt a new sense of hope gradually overtake my despair. I started out this mission with the hopes of redeeming only myself. All I wanted then was to fulfill my mission in a pathetic attempt to reconcile with an erstwhile friend only so that I could avoid Davy Jones's Locker. For the first time in my entire life, I knew that I was doing something right for the right purpose. I knew now that my new-found purpose is to make a difference in Howard's life, to reassure him time and time again that everything will be okay. It was the least I could do after all those years that I myself had been repetitively reassured by a machine who loved me unconditionally.

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_[Author's Notes: Thank you for the great reviews! But it looks like I'm only replying to one review for now. Oh, and Page of Darkness, I see you've changed your name back to 'Victory Goth.'_

_Capertadia - Thanks for adding my story to your favorites! Monica is my trollin' valley girl/preppy (in the sense that Tara/Todd Gilesbie means it) alter-ego who also happens to be my exact opposite._

_On another note, C'ren is not stupid name; I mean it. After I did some research on the name, I realized that it is in fact a common name of male fanmade characters for the Sci-fi/Fantasy saga '_Dragonriders of Pern._' I would like to apologize to Anne McCaffrey for accidentally ruining part of her fanbase by naming a Spongebob Squarepants fanfiction Mary Sue character (C'ren Amethyst LeHeart-Bieber) the same name as a common masculine Pernese name.]_


	11. Chapter 11: Pesto and Pests

**CHAPTER 11 - PESTO AND PESTS**

"What are you looking at?" Howard asked as he clapped his stubby hands in front of my eye. "You've been quiet for a few minutes now. What are you thinking about? Are you worried about how much time we have left?"

I was dumbfounded. I could not answer any of his questions without revealing to a stranger that I had been given a second life by The Flying Dutchman. I knew that, with his last question, he was talking about old age.

"I could see the fish starting to go about their day again," I replied, pointing to the sidewalk in the distance. "This must be how they go about every day, clad in dingy, gray corporate wear. And then, at night, as neon fills the darkness, the gray outfits seem to burst into color. But it seems to me that none of them truly cared about each other."

"It's as though the only two things these people care about are money and merrymaking," Howard interrupted, but continuing what I was supposed to say. "Sheldon, I can barely remember, though, that when I was in my prime, money was the only thing that mattered to me. That's why I didn't really bother to have a family and settle down. In fact, I used to work in the restaurant business, but I never made it as big as The Krusty Krab."

"Now that you're talking about restaurants, I'm getting hungry."

"Yeah, me too," he replied. "Let's go get something to eat."

"But where?" I asked.

"Where else but the restaurant through this tunnel?" he said, pointing at a small hole in the wall nearby that I've failed to notice since I got here. "This is pretty much why I chose this place. All we have to do is sneak into the restaurant, swipe some stuff off the pantry, and hope we get away with it!"

"Okay then." I just went with him and hoped that he is not trying to set me up for some kind of a trap. We just met today, so I still can't completely trust him. Come to think about it, I can't really trust anyone completely anymore ever since my own best friend, whose name shall no longer be said ever again even in my thoughts, betrayed me so many years ago.

I could smell the scrumptious aroma of undersea pesto through the crevices as Howard and I walked in the small tunnels. My stomach was growling, ever craving for the nostalgic, savory flavor of undersea garlic, kelp, seanuts, and sea cow cheese. I remembered that my mother used to make me the delicious pasta when I was a kid.

"Are you sure that you know where we're going?" I asked, remembering that Howard has a poor sense of direction.

"Just follow me," he replied. "I still have a sharp sense of smell, so we just have to go and find the source of the delicious smell."

We walked for a good distance and saw so many things happening through the tiny holes- a male fish painting a portrait of a mermaid, a couple making out, fingerlings playing in what seemed like a daycare center, and a female fish doing some paperwork. We eventually found the source of the smell, which was from a kitchen where a stout, red fish was preparing the delicious dish.

We passed through the tiny hole at the very bottom of the wall. There was already a plate of pesto on a nearby countertop, ready perhaps to be sold to a customer. We climbed up the table and munched on the seaweed-drenched noodles. I was on the lookout if the stout, red fish would look our way.

"Hide!" I said softly to Howard as the red fish began to tilt his head.

We ran inside the slightly-open counter cabinet and found jars of herbs, spices, and garnish. We both attempted to open the jar of kelp but the stout fish grabbed the very jar we were holding on to.

"Pests!" the stout fish shouted as he dropped the jar in surprise, and it shattered on the marble floors of the kitchen.

"Let me deal with those two, scaredy-snail, and mop up that mess," a green, deep-voiced, slender female fish who must be the strict head chef, said curtly as she took the mop and attempted to swat us with it.

We ran away as fast as we could from the restaurant when we went out through the front door. She blocked the 'back exit' that we entered through. The fish who just wanted to peacefully eat their breakfast frantically ran to the sides of the restaurant because they were disgusted by us.

"My leg!" a fish shouted in the middle of the sudden riot that broke out. Some of the female fish were screaming in disgust, holding on tightly to their boyfriends or husbands. Other fish looked at us in sick curiosity.

"And stay out!" she shouted, holding the mop up in the air.

"Now you know how it feels like to live my life," I said as soon as we were outside the restaurant. We were both panting for breath.

"Huh?"

"It's... uh... Nothing important," I replied, shrugging off the fact that I've almost opened up to a near-complete stranger about how I actually lived almost all my past.

"It's really tough to be a protozoan," he said. "You always get trampled on and mistaken for a pest."

"Yep," I replied. "That's exactly what I meant. But at least we got to eat something, right?"

"True; that was good pesto."

"My mom used to make me that pasta since I was a kid," I replied. "It's been a very long time since I've eaten those seaweed-drenched noodles. I'm actually quite stuffed right now."

"Okay, so where do we go now? I can't even remember how to go back to the alley," he said. "That lady won't let us in anymore! Besides, as far as I could hardly remember, that's how I found the alley."

"I don't want to go back to that alley anyway, where life for us feels like a dead end," I replied. "I still feel that there is something important for me to do, besides living invisibly in an almost-empty, foul-smelling alley."

"What is it now? Don't you realize that we're stuck here forever? With our small size, limited resources, and poor sense of direction, there's no way we're getting out of this town! Come to think about it, even if we do get out, what's next?"

"I could easily say that anywhere else is better than in this cold, concrete and neon jungle," I replied.

We walked around aimlessly, talking about life in general. There was not a moment of awkward silence at all anymore between us. Even though we just met today, both of us could easily and sincerely say that we are best friends.

I stopped when I saw another newspaper stand. I looked at what was on the news.

"Why? What's wrong?" Howard asked when he also stopped.

"It looks like Mr. Krabs isn't getting any better," I replied. Even when I insisted to myself repetitively that I will no longer think of him ever again, when I would see anything that has any bit of relevance to him, my thoughts would immediately shift back to my past friendship with him down to the moment when we fought and left me scarred for life.

"Was he an old friend of yours?" he asked curiously. "I used to look up to him! When I still had that restaurant, I've always done my best to make it as big as the Krusty Krab. He was my inspiration."

"Yes, he was an old friend," I replied.

"Really? Barnacles! I should have known you since a long time ago! Then I could have been filthy rich instead of being stuck in this dump!"

"But not for a long time," I interrupted him with a tone of despair. I immediately covered my mouth, knowing that if I continue, I would open up a huge piece of myself to someone I've just met.

"But why?"

"It's none of your business," I replied curtly.

"You do realize that we're both old already, right?" he said, insisting me to divulge the deepest, most painful details of my bitter life. "It's important to share what you know before you forget them yourself so that others may learn from you. That's why I've been very open to you even though I've only known you today. Of all the sea creatures in the world, you're the only one who's ever been kind to me. You proved to me that I'm not going to suffer alone forever in that bleak alley. I really mean it."

He started to cry again. I then felt a sudden urge to just drape my stubby arm over his shoulders like what a brother would do. It felt so out of character for me to do this, but he was a different case. When I did just that, a liver spot on my left arm faded. Tears began to fill my eye. For the first time in my life, I truly felt sympathy.

"Okay, here goes," I took a deep breath because I knew I might end up leaving small puddles of tears on the concrete sidewalk. "This story might make you feel even sadder and cry even harder. Mr. Krabs and I were pretty much inseparable when we were kids. We stood by each other because we both had a rough childhood. He was impoverished, and I was a nerd. While he finished my battles for me, I finished his science homework for him. We discovered that we could make ends meet by starting a burger shop, which, no one obviously went to, but it did knock down an old fish who was our only customer. That was when things started going downhill for me and the opposite for him. We blamed each other for tainting the recipe. We fought over it, and during the fight, a shelf with jars of spices that I don't even know fell into the batter and produced the Krabby Patties. I was only left with a part of the old recipe, which is a pinch of chum. He became famous through the seven seas while I stayed an outcast. He became a very greedy and selfish crab. I then came up with several schemes to try and win our friendship back, but nothing worked. I went on with plans to, instead, make him regret what he did to me by attempting to steal the Krabby Patty formula, which is what I spent most of my life on."

"Was that what you were talking about a while ago?"

"Which one?"

"When we went out of that restaurant, you told me something along the lines of me now knowing how it feels to live your life."

"Yep," I replied. "It was that one. Now you know how it feels like to be considered as nothing more than a pest. Wait a minute... Your memory isn't so bad."

"Yet," he continued. "Not yet. I have a brain disease that seems to be slowly eating away my memories. Who knows? Soon, I might wake up wondering who you are."

"But before that happens, I need your help with something," I said. "Throughout your life, you have lived alone. You never really cared for anyone, let alone settle down and have a family like what most sea-folk do. All you ever cared about is money, just like my old friend. Now, I will let you on on a big secret."

"What is it?"

"I just realized that with my old age, I myself have never really done anything right, and I decided that I wanted things to change. I succeeded at one point and finally got the formula. I ruled the world for a short time, but I'm sure that no one really remembers that I did. Neptune wiped away the memories of everyone and must have wiped away my memory of the Krabby Patty formula, but not my memory as former dictator of Planktopolis, which, by the way, was what I renamed the world. I got imprisoned for ten years in his underground dungeon and was finally set free, only to be confronted with the bitter fact that everyone's lives got better in ten years. World domination finally lost its appeal. I wanted to start anew and reconcile with Mr. Krabs, only for him to not forgive me, thinking that I was just coming up with another ruse to get my hands on the formula again. I have done just that so many times before when I was foolish as a single cell could really be. I hitched a free ride in a bus later that day, considering that I'm too small to actually get noticed. I got to this unknown town after staying in the bus until the sky darkened."

"Okay, so how can I help you with whatever you are supposed to do?"

"Since you said you are a fan of Mr. Krabs, I will give you a chance to meet him," I replied. "Now, I think that if you are actually with me when I apologize to him in that hospital bed as a witness to my sincerity, he just might accept my apology and I will get to fix the mistakes I've done in my entire life. Things will be back to how they were when we were young, sans his poverty and my rejection in society. We have to do this as fast as we could before his time runs out. The least I can do for him is to allow him to pass on in peace without hate in his thoughts and the knowledge that he was able to inspire someone to push himself."

* * *

_[Author's Note: _

_Maximagination - thanks for adding this story to your favorites._

_My apologies, but I might not be able to update for a while because I'm going to move to a new apartment soon. Life sure is crazy. Meanwhile, I'll just leave you guys with this long chapter.]_


	12. Chapter 12: The Tunnel

**CHAPTER 12 - THE TUNNEL  
**  
"But before you could do that, we have to get out of this town and into Bikini Bottom," Howard said.

"Good point," I replied. "Let's get moving."

We started once more to walk around, but this time, we had a goal. Now that I've figured out exactly what I was supposed to do not only to redeem myself but also to give an old friend some peace of mind, my days of aimless wandering are finally over. My life already had direction and purpose once again, and neither had anything to do with stealing the Krabby Patty formula or planning world domination. Every time that we almost got trampled on, we pulled each other away from the soles of the bigger fish. Neither of us has felt alone at all even if we're in the middle of the City of Apathy, a name we chose to call this unknown town. We stopped at a nearby corner after a few meters or so of running.

"Do you think... we should go... through the drain... instead?" I said, pointing at the curb of the sidewalk. I paused at every other word as I caught up for breath.

"Good idea," he replied. We went straight to the road's corner, being wary of boats passing by and of the soles of pedestrians. A few meters in front of us was an entrance to the drains.

"Barnacles!" I shouted in anger as soon as we went down the drain. Most of the inside was pitch-black, the rest just dimly-lit by small rays of sunlight that go through the entrances to the drains. We were inside what seemed to be part of a network of underground, rounded tubes.

"Why be so angry all of a sudden?"

"I can't believe I haven't thought of this earlier! I had to go all the way through the sidewalks for normal-sized fish and get trampled on repetitively when I could have just passed through here, where no one else could possibly step on me!"

"Just continue walking," Howard said, restoring my focus on my goal. "Besides, if you passed here, you could have never met me."

"But my main goal of going to this unknown town is to forget all about my past," I replied.

"If you didn't pass through those roads, you could have never known what happened to your old friend," Howard continued. "Whatever it is you're doing now, it's a good thing. Remember, we are doing this so that we could go back to Bikini Bottom and reconcile with your old friend. You might be the one who is becoming forgetful."

I was no longer able to reply when Howard said those words. He was right. If I had thought of this idea earlier, I would have just stayed in this tunnel for the rest of my life. But soon enough, I would get hungry, so I would have to emerge from this tunnel eventually and pass through the sidewalks or run the risk of getting caught anyway just like what happened when Howard and I snuck into that restaurant and ate some pesto. I would still know about what happened to Mr. Krabs if I see someone reading the newspaper or if I hear someone talk about him. Besides, he is a world-famous restaurant owner, so news about him getting a heart attack is definitely big news. However, that eventful day when I was freed from that prison was never even published on the newspapers. No one really ever talked about the fact that a would-be dictator was set free from Neptune's dungeon. It seemed that only Mr. Krabs and Howard knew, or Spongebob, if Mr. Krabs had told him.

We held on to the rounded 'walls' to maintain our balance in these slippery pipes.

"I'm just wondering," I said, steering the conversation towards a different topic. "Why do we have drains and tunnels like these when we are underwater anyway?"

"And I've also wondered why we have a beach resort underwater," he replied.

"You mean The Goo Lagoon?"

"Yup," he replied.

"After all these years, I've only observed the great mysteries of the world now," I said, full of wonder and fascination. "All my life has been spent on that one pursuit where I no longer had the time or the interest in anything else."

"Neither did I," he replied. "All those years have been spent trying to take care of that restaurant that never really made it big. I ended up becoming forgotten. No one really ever talked about that restaurant anymore."

"I also owned a restaurant before," I continued. "Obviously, it was a blasted fiasco. Even if I advertised my business in billboards and backs of phonebooks, The Chum Bucket never rang a bell to anyone. Or maybe it did, but for all the wrong reasons."

"Wilson?" Howard said all of a sudden.

"Wait, who's Wilson, anyway?" I replied in surprise.

"You," he replied. "Landon, it's getting dark already. Darker than it already was in here..."

"It's Sheldon, not Wilson or Landon," I corrected him. His forgetfulness was starting to set in again.

I soon noticed that the light rays that went through the tiny entrances to this network of pipes turned into a shade of orange that soon enough, faded away. All we had to rely on were the faint lights that reflected from boats and neon signs.

"Ouch!" Howard grumbled and he stopped walking. He sat down for a while and decided to rest. "I guess I'm not as fit as I used to be anymore..." Just seconds after, he started to snore.

I also rested my slightly aching, taut muscles. Today was another very long day for me. So many things have happened, from the time I met my new best friend Howard in that alley, ate some pesto from a restaurant, got shooed from said restaurant, learned about Mr. Krabs's worsening condition, and started the journey back to Bikini Bottom. I closed my eye and tried to sleep, but I couldn't. Something in my mind kept telling me to move forward. I wanted to continue on with this journey back home.

However, something else also urged me to wait for Howard to rest well before we can move on with this journey. It was only now when I fully grasped sympathy and friendship. I knew that I had more important things to do than to care for an old stranger in a big city I got lost in, such as to think of my own survival, but I knew I just had to be with this poor guy who had it worse than me in life. Besides, he is the only one I know, besides my family, who shares my perspective, the Plankton's Eye View, both figuratively and literally.

My family has also helped me to try and get the formula, but Mr. Krabs scared the barnacles out of all of us when I read aloud that plankton is the secret ingredient to a Krabby Patty. Unlike them, however, I'm not foolish enough to actually believe in that. I always knew that Mr. Krabs was very sly. I had to work alone again because they were all too scared to try again, no matter how many times I've tried to convince them that Mr. Krabs just tricked all of us.

* * *

_[Author's Note: Wow, it sure is great to be able to update again! Interesting things have happened so far in the time of my hiatus. I noticed that my trollfic, One Less Lonely Gurl, has already been taken down by the admins, along with a few other trollfics and badfics. Good job, admins! But if you guys want to read the trollfic in its original form (no MSTs or edits) and relive the lulz, there is a rehost of it already in a subpage of my blog. _

_rehost site: onelesslonelygurlfanfic . blogspot _

_Also, someone already made a TV Tropes page for the said trollfic. I gotta admit, it's a pretty amusing read._

_TVTropes: tvtropes pmwiki / / Fanfic / OneLessLonelyGurl  
_

_Cartoonatic55 - I'm glad you're enjoying this fanfic so far. You don't need to apologize for that long review for OLLG. That fanfic deserves your flame comment anyway. The mere fact that you flamed that story means that there is still hope for humanity left. Besides, it must have been quite a cathartic experience to be able to vent out your frustrations. By the way, the reference to Brewdening Love is a coincidence. I haven't even heard of that fanfic until I read your review.  
_

_Actually, that was a stealth shoutout to My Immortal. There are actually many MI shoutouts in OLLG, especially in Chapter 2. How? There is a character in MI named Lucian, who is a video game character in Valkyrie Profile (although it's possible that Todd didn't mean for Lucius to share names with said cideo (geddit?) game character. Ward, on the other hand, is a video game character in Final Fantasy VIII.]_


	13. Chapter 13: Journey Back Home

**CHAPTER 13 - JOURNEY BACK HOME**

The rays of the sun were visible again through the small entrances. Howard stretched out his arms and let out a big yawn.

"Ahh," Howard said, feeling refreshed. "It sure is good to wake up somewhere else for once. That old, stinking alley is getting quite boring anyway. So were you able to sleep last night?"

"Yeah," I replied, yawning shortly after. "My mind was just filled with so much thoughts. Should we get some food? I'm starving! We just had one heck of a meal yesterday."

"I guess we'll have to settle for the dumpsters now, lest we get shooed away again by a crazy fish with a mop!"

"We'll just have to be careful about stray snails that sometimes live there. I scavenged for some nachos in a dumpster and got chased by several, sinister-looking, spiked snails."

We got up from an exit nearby. The morning rush was over. The streets were almost clear of boats by this time, but not long before trucks would fill the streets to deliver goods. I have been woken up by the hustle and bustle of boats and people, but Howard slept through those loud noises. He must have been quite tired.

"Wait a minute," Howard said. "You look... younger. What happened to your beard? And your skin is actually greener! And where is that liver spot on your left arm?"

I felt the skin around my mouth and was very surprised to feel that my beard has gotten even shorter than it was. I pulled up a few strands of it before my eye and saw that the strands have turned into a dark shade of gray. I looked at my skin and saw that it was almost back to how it was before I got imprisoned.

"I have no idea," I replied, still trying to hide the fact that this was perhaps a bonus reward that The Flying Dutchman would give me whenever I would do something right and feel good about it.

The place we emerged into looked quite familiar to me. I saw that same newspaper stand again where I found out that Mr. Krabs got a heart attack. I checked the news and didn't see anything about Mr. Krabs, but something about Sandy's newest invention, the jellyfish tamer, finally getting a patent after winning the science fair that was held some time ago and something about Patrick inventing yet another new flavor of ice cream. I just let the bitterness out with another deep sigh.

"What's wrong? Is it something about Mr. Krabs again?" Howard asked as he looked at the newspaper. "He's not even on the news right now!"

"Nope," I replied. "I used to be a scientist. Whenever I would make a scheme to steal that Krabby Patty formula, I would make some ridiculous invention to help me with my plans. None of my inventions were patented. Just like with everything else, I was a failure even at that one thing I was good at: science."

"But if you were so good at it, then why didn't you use those inventions for something better? You could have started a gadget shop, or a medicine store, or something," he continued.

"You have a point. But it's too late for me to do that now," I replied. "Besides, there is someone who is better than me at science, and that would be Sandy. She also knows karate, and is the wife of the frycook of the Krusty Krab. The only thing I wanted back then was to steal that formula and make Mr. Krabs regret fighting me by conquering the world; nothing else mattered. However, things have changed now, and only recently have I realized that I wasted my whole life chasing after something that isn't worth it."

"But have you ever actually tried to turn over a new leaf? What, with all those consecutive failures, there has got to be some point when you decided to just give it all up."

"I decided, however, to start a knickknack store, but Mr. Krabs had to ruin it for me by steering me back to the temptation of the Krabby Patty," I continued as I let out another deep sigh. "He deceived me by pretending to offer his friendship and bring back the good old days when we were inseparable. Even if we were both outcasts, at least we had each other. I myself also deceived him several times by apologizing to him and secretly taking away the formula, but I never got away with doing that. Things have changed now, as I said, and deceiving him has already lost its appeal. I don't want the formula anymore."

"But if he is no longer willing to forgive you, what chance do you get now?"

"That doesn't matter anymore," I replied. "The important thing for me now is to be able to apologize to him one last time before his last breath. Whether he forgives me or not is no longer important if he is already a dying crab. The best gift I can give to an old friend I've been in a war with for almost my whole life is an apology in his hospital bed. Besides, I made the decision to go on this journey back home, and there is no more turning back."

"And after that?"

"Well, I have no idea," I replied with a genuine smile. "I suppose we could walk into the horizon on a sunset just like in movies and just enjoy the rest of whatever little time we have left?" When I just said those words, I realized that I no longer felt out of character. I was amazed at how a new place and a new friend can actually change my view of the world. I didn't even use any inventions or weird concoctions to achieve this.

"Wait," Howard interrupted my train of happy thoughts of tomorrow and snapped his finger in front of my eye. "I thought we're supposed to get some food from a nearby dumpster?" Even though he would sometimes forget my name, calling me Landon, Brandon, Wilson, and other similar names, he was almost always there to remind me of what we were supposed to do.

We went to the alley just near the newspaper stand and scavenged for crumbs of food there. Again, the rabid snails saw us and they meowed angrily. We ran as fast as we could, but Howard couldn't catch up with me. He was already about a fourth of a meter away from me when I stopped and looked back. He was grumbling in pain again as he stopped and panted for breath.

I ran back to where he was and decided to just carry him instead. I was in a hurry because the rabid snails were catching up with us. They were just about half a meter away. Surprisingly, I was able to do it even though I'm already an old guy who was never really physically fit in the first place.

We went back into the tunnels where even those snails can't enter. I put Howard down and we rested for a while. Howard continued to complain about his arthritis. Again, even though I wanted to get moving already, I couldn't just leave a weak, old guy behind even if the goal of my journey was to apologize to another weak, old guy whom I've known almost all my life.

I decided to lift him so that I could still carry on with the journey. Come to think about it, maybe I was physically fit. I used to carry bottles that are over twice my size and be able to run while doing so.

"It's okay," Howard said. "I can handle myself."

"Are you sure?" I asked as I put him down.

"Yeah," he replied. "Besides, this is nothing but a little bit of pain compared to the importance of what we're doing."


	14. Chapter 14: The Main Pipe

**CHAPTER 14 - THE MAIN PIPE**

The days went by and we did the same things over and over again: emerge from these dark tunnels, eat breakfast, which more often than not, was our only meal for the rest of the day, go back to the tunnel, continue on with the journey, and rest when the lights are no longer visible through the small holes where the exits or entrances are. We were supposed to hitch a free ride on a bus that drives to Bikini Bottom, but we haven't had any luck so far with finding a bus stop. Had we found any buses on the road, it would be more likely that, before we could climb up a small ledge on a bus and manage to hold on through the long journey, we would end up flat as cardboard on top of our gravel graves, ran over by the boats of apathetic townsfolk.

I was starting to worry about how much time left Mr. Krabs has. When I checked the news, I discovered that his condition kept getting worse. We had to hurry up. I decided that I would have to lift Howard.

"Really," Howard said again. "It's okay. I can handle myself."

"We don't have much time left," I replied. "Mr. Krabs's condition is getting worse. We can't exactly do this fast if you keep stopping to complain about your arthritis."

"Wait a minute," Howard continued. "Are you sure that this is the right way?"

I didn't reply right away. The truth is, I didn't even know where we were going at all. We may have emerged from the tunnels into a few familiar places, but given the fact that this town is huge, it's so easy to get lost. I took a deep breath before I said my reply.

"No."

"But how can we possibly make it to Bikini Bottom in time?"

"I suppose we could take chances and continue on with this journey."

"But what if we don't make it?" Howard continued asking, but now with a tone of despair starting to overtake him. "It has been days since we started wandering about this town, sometimes even going around in circles."

"Well, at least we tried," I replied with a deep sigh. "At least dear Neptune knows that we tried."

After a few more twists and turns across pipes that all look the same, we eventually came across what must be the water treatment facility where all the pipes that make up this complex network of underwater tunnels meet.

"I think I already got my answer to my question," I said in astonishment, mouth agape, as I looked around. Gears at the center of what seemed to be the main pipe formed a pillar covered in circles spinning in all sorts of directions and speeds. Surrounding the pillar was a spiral staircase that was created for normal-sized fish. Several fish were in charge of maintaining the machines, some of them on the complex network of pathways that also served as framework to keep the pipe intact, others on the staircase.

"Are we close to our destination already?" Howard asked, snapping his finger in front of my eye. I got startled so I twitched, getting back to reality.

"Nope, but this must be the reason why we have drains. Underneath this city is actually a water treatment facility where the waters of the seas are cleaned over and over again. Have you ever noticed how the waters stay mostly clear despite the hustle and bustle of this city? This must be why," I replied.

"Now what? With all these other pipes and tunnels, there are so many chances that we go the wrong way and get even more lost in this city!" Howard said loudly with a slight tone of vexation.

"I suppose we could... take our chances?" I replied hesitantly. Sweat started to drip from my entire body because of nervousness and also because my muscles were already strained from lifting Howard. However, I was determined to finish what I have started. No matter how much my arms hurt, I will still carry on. "There's no more turning back. Let's do this!"

Still carrying Howard in my arms despite the pain, I stepped inside the main pipe and eyed on a random pipe that will, hopefully, lead us back to Bikini Bottom.

"You know what, forget it!" Howard shouted angrily. "This is all your fault! Of all the tunnels here, there is only one in a thousand chances that we are going the right way! It's all your fault that we're lost! Had it not been for you, I could have just stayed where I am safe: in that stinkin' alley! What gives you the feeling that we are close friends if you just met me a few days ago? You're just dragging me along in your ridiculous quest to apologize to an old friend. Now, put me down!"

"Be quiet!" I said in a hushed tone as I put him down. "Those fish might find out about us!"

"Who's there?" one of the fish in charge of maintenance said as he looked around. He took the nearby mop and held it like a weapon. He then stood up in battle stance. He continued to search the area until he must have seen two suspicious-looking specks of dust, which would be us, moving on an otherwise flawless, chrome floor.

"There you are!" he continued as he chased after us and hit the floor with his broom. The loud blows of the mop against the floor invited the stares of the other fish working to maintain the main pipe.

* * *

_[Author's Note: Sorry I wasn't able to update in a long time. I was helping out in the great fanfiction war. More on that in my deviantart profile. (Go to my profile for the link.)_

_READ: Thanks for the info, but I wasn't able to sign the petition. Wait, were you one of my flamers in my previous fanfic? I think I remember arguing with someone with your penname._

_jo bel4: Drama outside the fanfic's plot is not allowed, you impersonator. You are not the real jo bel.]_


	15. Chapter 15: Lost

**CHAPTER 15 - LOST**

I pushed Howard out of the way so that we won't get squished by the broom.

"What in Davy Jones's Locker do you think you are doing?" Howard asked, still angry. He held on to his hurting joints.

"Saving your life! What else does it look like?" I replied.

"You know what," Howard said as he pushed me away, albeit weakly. I didn't even get thrown off my balance. "I'm getting the feeling that you're simply doing this as another ruse for you to get the Krabby Patty formula and conquer the world again. If you really are going to apologize to your old friend, go on without me. You can do that anyway. I can live without meeting Mr. Krabs anyway. Maybe you're just setting me up for something."

The fish in the facility watched us argue.

"But..." was all I said in reply. I could no longer continue that clause. I needed Howard. I didn't just want him on my team. It would be impossible to carry out my mission without him. I needed motivation lest my mind wanders back to my shameful past. I don't even want to mention it in my thoughts anymore. I brought him with me because I want him to be able to meet the one he has been idolizing for a long time. I did my best to remember that he forgets, that his brain disease has been eating his mind away little by little. I really would like him to meet Mr. Krabs before the latter's time or Howard's come up, or before Howard completely forgets.

"What are you waiting for?" Howard hollered. "Get out of my sight, you barnacle head!"

"But..." I replied again.

"No more buts! Especially yours! Get your butt out of here and leave me alone!"

"But what about what we have started?" I said, finally completing my statement.

"Look. All you did was drag me along in your journey back home, which is very likely to fail," Howard explained. "Now, we're lost in the middle of these complex tunnels and we have a good chance to not finish whatever ridiculous thing you started. If you want to get lost, don't drag me along! I'd rather be in that alley and die alone, which is the fate I know. Everybody's gotta die sometime! I know that! All I have left is to wait for the Dutchman to come collect my weary soul."

"What happened to your determination? What happened to you?"

"After realizing that everything will just come down to this, I just realized that all of my life is pointless. Everything I ever did is pointless. It's pointless to spend everyday in these bleak tunnels without any hope of knowing if we have made any progress in your journey. This is not my journey anyway. I'm nothing but an option to you. I'm not even the star of this."

"But I chose you," I replied. "I know how much you hate that alley. It's nothing but a dead end to you. I hate to see you like this, you know? I want you to be happy one last time before you move on and forget me, or everyone else. Now, let's go on, pick a random pipe, and hope that it's the way to Bikini Bottom. It's the only thing we could do, and it's better than not trying. Karen once told me that a life lived for oneself is a pointless life. It was my mistake to live alone and live for only myself. Now that we have each other in this city of apathy, whatever you have done is no longer pointless."

"Aww..." everyone else in the room said in chorus upon hearing what I said.

"Wait a minute," a fish interrupted us. "Did you just say 'Bikini Bottom'?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Why?"

"I know the place," he said.

"You do?" Howard asked, his mood changed from anger to hope.

"Well, I grew up there as a child. I decided to migrate upon knowing that I can get a higher-paying job here as maintenance personnel for the biggest water treatment facility in the Pacific. Would you like me to help you guys get a bus to Bikini Bottom?"

"Definitely," I replied. "There is something really important that I have to do there, and I have to get there as soon as possible."

"I'll go with you," Howard said. "I'm sorry about what happened moments ago."

"It's okay," I replied.

That was the first time I have not felt anger at all in the middle of a heated argument. I didn't even shout at him or decide to leave and go ahead on my own. I knew and always remembered the very purpose of why I'm doing this, and why I am with Howard. My determination to go home and apologize to an old friend once again has already surpassed my former determination to pursue what would never be mine. I understood Howard's circumstances. I knew it was normal to feel like life is pointless, especially after failing. I myself have already been through that. I have already felt so much ennui in my once-miserable life, but I then came to realize that life will find its way to tie up loose ends.

* * *

_[AN: Finally! An update! Actually, it took me a long time to write this. What I would do is write this little by little in school when there are no classes for the time. I do most of my school projects at home. This fic is not dead. I will still update this until it is completed._

_jo bel4, okay. You're a troll. Apology accepted._

_Hayley Williams Fanboy, yeah. I remember you. It was tough arguing with you, and I'm sorry. You're actually a pretty cool guy, and you don't disgust me at all. Your taste in music rocks, and the vocalists of the bands you mentioned are hot and talented. I actually think that the girl in the Beast and the Harlot music video is gorgeous, and the music video is awesome. The TV Tropes pages for One Less Lonely Gurl and Plankton's Eye View are amusing reads. As for your theory about a romance between C'ren and OLLG!Plankton, I will tell you whether this is true or not in my planned remake of One Less Lonely Gurl._

_As for your theory about the nature of my trollfic, it is a satire on Mary Sue as the product of one's dreams, and your theory about C'ren's age and the setting of the story is correct. C'ren and Justin are really about the same age, and I did mean 'younger' as a state of mind. For your other theory on the story as a satire on my love life, that's just a coincidence. Well, they say that you write what you know, even if what you're writing is a trollfic._

_By the way, the remake will feature the hidden chapters (Chapters 28-69). Yes, I originally planned to have 69 chapters in OLLG but I gave up after 27. That is my next challenge. I will rewrite the whole thing using my writing style, better grammar, and explained plot holes. All rude author's notes will be removed.]_


	16. Chapter 16: Determination

**CHAPTER 16 - DETERMINATION**

"But for the meantime, I guess you guys should relax for a while, okay?" the Bikini Bottomite fish said, checking his watch. "My shift will end in just an hour."

"Again, I'm sorry if I doubted you, okay?" Howard said as he tapped my shoulder like a brother would.

"That's all right, really," I replied. "In fact, I should be the one thanking you."

"Why?"

"If not for you, I could have just drowned myself in this city in a desperate attempt to completely forget about my past."

Howard cringed in pain again, holding on to his aching legs.

"Wait, are you sure you're okay?" I asked him.

"No, but I will go with you. I want to meet Mr. Krabs, even just this once."

"Come to think about it, even if this is the city of apathy, I could also say that this is the city of opportunities. If I had not went here, I could have never met you. As a matter of fact, I rode that bus with the initial plan to alight on a barren land where I will live out the rest of my life the way I have lived it: in loneliness that will soon be solitude. All I wanted was a new atmosphere, even if the new environment was an endless, desolate expanse. Only, there is no more Karen to reassure me time and time again that everything will be all right."

"Karen… you talk about her quite a lot," Howard said. "Who is she?"

"Someone who has left me a long time ago…"

"Was she pretty? Is she a voluptuous, blonde, one-eyed wonder of a fine protozoan?"

"No, but she is the most beautiful black box I have ever seen."

"What do you mean?"

"She is actually a computer," I replied. "Just like you, I never really had a family. I never settled down and had kids. World domination was the only thing that mattered to me, along with exacting my revenge on Mr. Krabs. But at least I was never really alone. All I ever wanted when I rode on that bus is to be completely alone where no other fish will see me, where I can completely forget about my past and try to find another pursuit of happiness, wherever I may find it, even in the grains of sands that could have been my only companions until I eventually become one with them. I just decided later on that a bustling city would do the job for me."

I continued to tend to his aching joints as we got deeper into conversation. Sometimes, I even had to repeat things for him. His forgetfulness was getting worse. Over the course of our journey, I had to retell my story to him several times. I had to correct him more frequently when he would call me Landon, Wilson, Brandon, or other similar names.

"Okay, my shift is over," the fish said as he approached us. "Now, take a ride in my pocket." He carried both of us and placed us in the front pocket of his coat.

He went up the spiral stairs, went out of the office, and started his boat. I looked at the city, glowing with its various neon lights, for one last time. I realized that just as he was driving home, he was also driving me back home. No matter how cold and apathetic this city had been to me, I will still miss this place. I will still miss the claustrophobic, complicated network of tunnels that fill the spaces below the tall buildings and blinding neon signs. I will never forget the noise that makes this city so lively, and most of all, the good food, even though I took most of them from the dumps. This city gave me the golden opportunity to eat anything besides virtual meat loaf. Above all of those things, had it not been for this city, I would not have a companion. I would not have met Howard at all.

For the first time in my life, I was truly happy. I realized that this was what The Flying Dutchman was talking about. Even though I never really experienced going into any of the clubs and party venues in this city, I still got to try things I've never tried before. For almost my entire stay here, there were days when, not even once, did the formula cross my mind. I was too busy taking care of my friend in his time of need. I had fun, though, even if there were some times when we didn't really agree completely.

The fish then parked his car by the bus station, handed us over to the bus driver, and gave him money for our tickets to Bikini Bottom.

We were seated on special seats that the bus driver provided seemingly out of nowhere. I looked back at the city of neon lights as the bus departed. I saw the skyline slowly disappear into the horizon and knew that the moment is about to come. I will see my home again soon. I looked out at the seemingly endless expanse of sand that spanned the entire landscape, extending from both sides of the road, soon after. I was supposed to be just one speck of sand, unseen among millions of others, had I disembarked there. I knew from this time that I made the right decision to go to the bustling city and risk getting trampled on.

I then wondered if I had made the right decision to go back home and totally change my initial plan. All I ever really wanted was to go to a place as far away from Bikini Bottom as possible, but now, I have decided to go back to the very place that I'm escaping from.

The journey lasted for hours, and when we eventually got there, it was sunrise already when we both woke up as soon as the bus driver had announced that we were already at the Bikini Bottom bus stop. We alighted from the vehicle, and I thanked the driver for his good service.

"Whoa!" Howard said as he looked around Bikini Bottom and saw the eccentric cylindrical buildings that lined the horizon. He acted just like a kid who went to an amusement park for the first time.

"Yeah, this is Bikini Bottom," I replied. "We're finally here. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I sure miss this place even though it gave me nothing but bitter memories."

I read the front pages of the morning papers form the newspaper stall nearby and found out that Mr. Krabs's condition was still getting worse. The doctors were already quite worried that Mr. Krabs might not make it out of the hospital alive anymore.

"I know where we should go first: the hospital," I said. "Mr. Krabs is there, and remember: the reason we are here is him."

"Let's go, then," Howard said. I then carried him in my arms, knowing that his arthritis was still taking its toll on him.

"Wow, you are actually quite healthy for a fellow my age," Howard said.

"It must be from lifting heavy bottles from back in the day," I replied. "I don't consider myself healthy, though."

I endured every step towards the hospital where Mr. Krabs is confined. Even though my arms already hurt so badly, I didn't stop moving. I knew I was getting closer to my purpose of returning to the very place that I've always wanted to escape from.

Catching my breath, I rested against the wall of the hospital for a while as soon as I got there.

"We're here, Howard," I said. "Now, let me just rest my arms for a while…"

"It's okay," he replied. "I can handle myself."

"But how about stairs?" I asked. "You might have a hard time climbing up them."

"Good point," Howard replied. "You really are that determined, aren't you?"

"I've always been," I replied. "No matter what my pursuit, determination is what defines me. There may have been some points in my life when I just wanted to throw myself into an incinerator, but in the end, I realize: I am Sheldon James Plankton. I can and will do something about my problems."


	17. Chapter 17: The Hospital

**CHAPTER 17 – THE HOSPITAL**

"So this is it," I said after my arms have completely rested. "There really is no more turning back now."

"Let's do this," Howard replied.

We slipped under the door, and as quietly as we could, we snuck through the halls, trying to eavesdrop on the doctors and nurses to get hints on where Mr. Krabs's room is.

"Mr. Krabs… is he going to get any better soon?" an intern on break asked the resident worriedly.

"I'm not so sure about that, but everyone has their time," the resident replied. 'Whatever happens, we should just accept it and move on, no matter how tragic it is."

We continued to walk around, slipping ourselves under every door of every hospital room. We saw residents on 24-hour-shifts resting inside the suites provided for them after an intense day's worth of work, doctors analyzing blood samples, the emergency rooms where there were several injured young fish that must have driven their boats recklessly, bereaved families losing their loved ones, and mother fish giving birth. It is in this place where birth and death meet in the circle of life. And now we are going to an old friend who is about to draw the last arc of this circle.

"Excuse me, but where is Mr. Krabs's room?" a random fish asked an intern in a pink scrub suit. "I forgot the room number."

"Oh, it's in the fifth floor, room number ten," the intern wearing the pink scrub suit replied. "However, the two security guys guarding the door might not let you in. They have stun guns. Also, he just underwent another surgery, and he needs a lot of rest."

"Okay then, thanks anyway," the fish said.

"But how will we get in the room, then?" Howard whispered to me.

"Aren't you forgetting that we can slip under doors?" I replied.

"Oh, yeah."

We went to the hallway where the room was supposed to be. The hardwood door was guarded by two muscular fish that looked like regulars of The Salty Spitoon. One of them had along scar on top of his left eye and another had an x-shaped scar on his bare chest.

"Uh, are you sure about this?" Howard asked as he cowered in fear. "Those folks look really alert, and they will be able to see two specks of dust like us moving across a clean, marble floor."

"I'm used to being trampled on, and I'm ready to be trampled on again. At least Neptune knows I tried," I replied.

"Okay, let's run for it!" Howard said.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I thought you have joint pain."

"Doesn't matter."

"On the count of three," I said. "One… two… three!"

We ran straight through a seemingly endless white, marble plane. The two bouncers were still by the door, standing in attention, with their hands on their backs.

"Hey man, what's that?" one of them pointed to the ground. They must have noticed us.

"I don't know, man, maybe those are just undersea ants," the other bouncer replied.

"Okay man, let's just keep watch," the first bouncer said.

"No man, those aren't ants!" the second bouncer shouted upon closer observation of us, breaking the near-silence of the hospital halls. "Those are plankton, man! Spongebob specifically told us to watch out for those!"

"Quick, stun guns!" the first bouncer said.

"Run!" I shouted to Howard, who stopped as soon as his arthritis crippled him again.

"I can't," Howard replied. "Just go on ahead without me…"

"No," I said. "I will not leave you."

I ran back to him and carried him. I dodged the feet of the bouncers who started running around chasing me. Other fish started to surround us, and I also had to avoid their feet. I also dashed forward to avoid the stun guns. It wasn't easy, though, because I'm carrying someone. Suddenly, my arms numbed, and I dropped Howard. I soon fell to the ground with a stinging feeling enveloping my little body. The stun gun must have hit me.

No matter how hard I tried to stand up, I couldn't move a muscle. I was as stiff as a corpse, but I knew I was still alive. Howard was there right beside me as he tried to reach for my stubby hand.

"Howard, I'm sorry," I said as tears started to form on my eye. "It looks like we failed."

"But Neptune knows that we tried, right?" Howard replied grasping my hand more tightly.

"It looks like this is the end," I said as I felt my breath slowly escape me. "Here we go…"

I felt the sharp sting of the cold marble floor on my back. I could move again, but I felt weaker.

"Step on those pests!" one of the nurses shouted.

The shadows of the shoes of the fish quickly filled my vision. I knew that our lives were in danger. As quickly as I could, I stood up and pulled Howard up by his arm. I carried him again, although it's harder now after getting hit by the stun gun. I mustered up what little is left of my strength. Again, I tried to outrun the bouncers and looked straight towards the hardwood door. It was still a long way in Plankton measurements and I had so many feet to avoid, but I did my best to keep running no matter how much my entire body ached. After my left foot got trampled on, I hopped on my right foot, still moving towards my goal. I knew that it would be almost impossible for me to get to the door and slip under it, but I also knew that it's only _almost_ impossible. For as long as there was still a shred of possibility left for me to be able to get through that Neptune-damned door, I would carry on.

With all these thoughts filling up my mind, I didn't focus on surviving, but I focused on my goal. As soon as I knew that I was already very close to the door, I ran for it, not minding the intense pain that still filled my left foot, and even the rest of my feeble, worn-out body.

Soon enough, Howard and I were able to slip under the door. We quickly slipped under the nearby drawers in order to hide from the bouncers and nurses that inevitably entered the suite in pursuit of us.

"Whew…" I said in relief as I rested myself on the dark, cobweb-filled corner. "At least we made it inside the room."

Howard was peeking through the opening under the drawers.

"Hey man, where did those two go?" the bouncer with a scar on top of his left eye asked.

"I have no idea, man," the other bouncer replied.

"Oh, well, we have to all get out of this room now," one of the nurses said. "Those are just two old protozoans anyway. It's not that they can do anything wrong, right?"

"Spongebob told us specifically to watch out for those," the bouncer with an x-shaped scar explained. "One of them is still out there to pursue the Krabby Patty formula, which leads me to wondering: Why was it even placed conveniently on top of the bedside table where it is easily seen?"

"You must have forgotten that Mr. Krabs specifically asked for the bottle with the formula to be left on the table for Spongebob to get today. For some reason, he 'said' that he felt that he was not going to make it to the next night anymore," the bouncer with a scar on top of his left eye explained as they all left the room. "Despite the fact that Mr. Krabs stayed unconscious for a long time, Sandy's invention that won in last year's Science Fair, the Unconscious Speaker, enabled him to voice out what he wants done with his possessions after he crosses the other side despite not being able to move his mouth or be conscious in the first place. That's exactly why we're guarding the room. Spongebob is supposed to go here later when his shift is over."

"The coast is clear," Howard said as he looked at the room again from the space under the drawers.

"Now, for the moment of truth…" I said as I took a deep breath and emerged from the darkness of the space below the drawers, mustering up every last bit of courage I have. "This is really it. We've made it."


	18. Chapter 18: The Bottle

**CHAPTER 18 - THE BOTTLE**

The suite was painted a pristine, light yellow shade. The floors were made of marble, and the one big window on one side of the wall was draped with white blinds. Other than the bed on which Mr. Krabs laid, there was nothing but the drawer we hid under, two end tables, medical machinery which indicated that he still had a heartbeat, and a sofa for visitors. The room had a rather Spartan design.

Mr. Krabs looked very different from how he did when I last saw him. He no longer had that opulent, bright scarlet sheen to his shell: he had molted it away. He was now just a wrinkled up, pale, pink, unmoving, old prune. Instead of the sophisticated suit he wore with the gold-framed monocle, he instead wore a hospital gown and was tucked by blankets. He looked rather at peace with himself, but somehow, I knew that he was in intense pain. I noticed Howard crying, and I comforted him.

"The crustacean I have looked up to for years…" Howard mumbled. "He is now this… nothing but a vegetative vessel of a… I wish this was nothing but a dream…"

"But on the bright side, at least you got to meet him, right?" I realized right then and there that I have told someone to look at the brighter side of a sorrowful situation that even the most positive of optimists will find bleak. Howard took a nap on the marble floor in an attempt to escape this reality that cannot be effaced from his otherwise fading memory of who he was.

However, I also saw the bottle with the Krabby Patty recipe on top of the mahogany end table. It was transparent, had a brown scroll inside, and was sealed only by a piece of cork. I stared at it for a long time. I memorized and measured in my head every single one of its curves, the angles on which it reflects the overhead light, the smoothness of the near-flawless glass, and the perspective I was observing it from, as though I was checking out a beautiful woman's contours for the first time. For almost all my life, this was what I have sought after in order to prove myself. For years, my longing for the knowledge of what is written on that scroll has consumed my very being. I have wasted all my life on that Neptune-damned scroll and refused to have it any other way.

"What's the matter? Why so quiet? You've been staring at that bottle for hours now," Howard said. "I've already woken up from my nap, and you're still sitting in the same position, eye straight ahead at that bottle."

"That bottle…" I said. I felt the tears well up in my eye as my whole life flashed before it- all those years that I've pursued the contents of that bottle. "I've pursued it all my life. I wasted every opportunity I could have gotten on that wretched bottle!"

I finally ran towards the end table and climbed it. I saw the bottle again, and it was now noticeably larger and taller than I am, as though I could actually be trapped inside it. It was perfectly clear, and the pristine glass sparkled before my eye as it captured the reflection of the white fluorescent light. It was a treasure I had been hunting for all my life. I saw the scroll inside; every fiber of the paper, slightly frayed at the edges, yet perfectly opaque, concealing a mystery.

This, I felt, was my ultimate temptation. Right beside the bottle was a wrinkled old body of an erstwhile friend and arch rival, the very reason I went here in the first place and got trampled upon once again on those cold marble floors. In this very room were the very two factors that governed everything about my life; my goals, my feelings, my relationships, and my needs. To my left was an object so valuable that I have pursued almost all my life and never got, and to my right was someone I used to have and lost to the very object on my left. I knew right this very moment that I was in the single most important crossroad in my journey in life, and I had to choose only one.

I closed my eye and meditated. I hadn't done such a thing since what seemed to be forever ago. I needed some moments of silence and solitude, some moments of trance away from the visual presence of my ultimate temptation.

"You seem to be bothered by a very important decision you're being faced with right now," Howard said as he stood right next to me.

"I need some moments to myself," I replied.

"Well then," he said. "I understand. I'll just be right here if you need me."

In my meditative trance, I felt as though I was reliving my life all over again, repeating the same mistakes I have done in the past, over, and over, and over again, right from the moment Mr. Krabs and I fought over the paper that changed our lives forever up to the moment I attempted to jump off the mortal coil by getting incinerated at Stanley's Scrap Shop. I felt myself suffer the same pain and bitterness from my constant failures in everything and from all the opportunities that I myself chose to waste. I opened my eye and felt the tears run across my face. I wiped them off with my stubby arm, and from that moment, I understood what I should do. I already knew what my decision would be.

"Is everything okay?" Howard asked.

"Yeah," I replied firmly. "I know now."

I jumped on the bed, cleared my throat, and I reached for Mr. Krabs's ear, hoping to finally tell him what I've always wanted to tell him as an old friend of mine.

* * *

_Author's Note: Yeah, I haven't written anything about Plankton's Eye View in a long time. I've been having too much fun with my other fanfic, My Metal (the original is on deviantArt), which I will repost here soon._

_I know there is some stuff here that doesn't match up with canon anymore because of new episodes, but I have already planned this story from start to end, and I will continue writing it based on my fanon. Besides, this fanfic is almost complete anyway. Just a few more chapters to go._


	19. Chapter 19: Apologies

**CHAPTER 19 - APOLOGIES  
**

With the courage I had finally mustered up right from the moment I decided to journey back to the town that emotionally tormented me for almost all my life, I finally opened my lips and sounded the words that could possibly change my life forever once again and perhaps, rectify all the mistakes I had done in my nearly-worthless life.

"I'm sorry," I finally said.

* * *

_"You might not be able to clearly hear me right now, or comprehend whatever I will say next. Your mind might be wandering off somewhere else in a pursuit of a higher plane of existence than this one… somewhere else away from this ephemeral world. But right now, I will pour whatever is left of my shriveled-up, little old heart into everything I've always wanted to tell you. I was always afraid to tell you this, but now that I had experienced more things that finally changed my perspective, I had finally gathered the courage to tell you everything!_

_First of all, I would like to thank you for being there for me since we were toddlers in that daycare. Thank you for fighting my childhood battles for me, and for being with me to eat lunch behind that dumpster that reeks of Davy Jones's old socks. Of all the days of my life, those were the best, believe it or not. Those were the days when I still had someone to live for… someone who gave my life some meaning to it despite the fact that everyone else considered us freaks because you were dirt-poor and I was a nerd._

_For all these years, all I ever really wanted was to be able to get the Krabby Patty formula from you so that, together, we can steal our friendship back from the tides of fate that washed it away into the abyss of Davy Jones's locker. As time passed by, its abrasive sands effaced that longing for reconciliation away and rusted it, leaving only the corroded, crumbling remains of what was once a desire to repair a lost friendship that rusted away, leaving only something wicked, something vile, and something corrupting."_

* * *

I felt the tears start to well up my eye. They started to muffle the sounds coming from my mouth and clog the tunnels that let the air into my system, but I continued. Howard was next to me now, and he tapped my shoulder.

"Go on," he said. "I know it's hard for you, but I am getting the feeling that you made the right choice… Remember, THIS is what you're here for…"

* * *

_"Eventually, just like how oxidation changes a tough, iron nail left outside to soak in the rain to a crumbling stick of rust, my strength to go on gradually weakened. Without friends to tide me over during those tough times save for a machine of a lover that robotically reassured me that everything will be all right, I changed from a misunderstood young protozoan who lost his last true friend, into a mad scientist who wanted to rule the world and enslave everyone in it. That villainy became my façade that masked the true weakness that consumed the entirety of my feeble body. It was my biggest mistake to not let go of that fateful day when that Neptune-damned paper tore apart the same way our friendship did. The many years that passed by made me realize what a bitter failure I turned out to be, living alone in a rusty bucket when I could have spent those wasted years inventing things that would revolutionize the world. Well, Sandy already did that. Without that contraption she invented that would allow your thoughts to be heard, that bottle right next to you might not even be there. But right now, I am not here for that bottle no matter how many years I have spent in order to pursue what is inside it._

_What is this? You are still silent despite everything I have already said? I'll just assume from this point on that you are still listening intently to your erstwhile arch-rival mouthing to you all his failures in life. Perhaps you might be silently laughing under those closed eyes of yours. But either way, thank you for this moment. Thank you for this opportunity. Now, I shall continue. _

_For a while, I had finally achieved such success and forced people to build steel monuments based on my image and likeness. I loved seeing those fish suffer under the fashionable buckets I had made for their brains to bend to my will, just about as much as you loved using that Neptune-damned drinking straw to launch me back to my shack every time I fail to get the formula. Spongebob eventually foiled this grand scheme, however, and got me sent me to jail. I suffered there for about ten years, spending my time confined in a small solitary cell about the size of a hollow block forced to read contest entries for the yearly Worst Writing Contest. I learned the hard way that this freedom was only an illusion and because of this, I decided to jump into the fire. As I was burnt, I soon learned that there was this mission I had to do, and it was to try something new and to find happiness in a life that bred me to failure. I escaped into a faraway city that seemed to glorify the nightlife above everything else. While I wasn't able to really enjoy the nightlife itself and visit even a single bar and have one glass of booze to drink my problems away, in a cardboard box in a bleak alley lit only by a dim streetlight, I met a friend who gave my life meaning again. His name is Howard, and he idolizes you so much. He is here right now, and he is the one who led me to you."_

* * *

"Yeah, I'm here," Howard said as tears fell from his eye as well. "It's always been my dream to meet the owner of such a successful restaurant. And my friend here is obviously sincere about everything he's telling you…"

* * *

_"I learned that you were sick, and I realized that I should do this so that if you will not survive this, you will, at least, go in peace without the burden of a broken friendship on your back._

_Perhaps this is it._

_Now that I've said it all, I do feel better, as though a heavy rock that I had been pushing all my life finally landed on the correct spot. Now, with all of this, I bid you farewell. Whether or not you forgive me for everything, I forgive you."_

* * *

"I…" Mr. Krabs attempted to reply, but before he could continue whatever he was about to say, the lines on the electrocardiograph monitor that beeped to the rhythm of his heart gradually weakened. The green, spiky lines gradually turned into subtler waves. I knew that this was one of the signs. Not even Sandy's invention could receive transmissions from his brain anymore.

Quickly, I ran to the door and pulled it open with all the strength I had. Howard helped me despite the fact that he was almost unable to walk because of his recurring arthritis.

"What is that? Why is the door opening!?" one of the muscled fish guiding the door asked the other in surprise.

"I dunno, man, but we better find out! Spongebob will be here in a few moments!" the other fish replied. They looked down and saw me.

"Quick!" I shouted so that they could hear me. "There's something wrong with Mr. Krabs's heartbeat! Call in the doctors! Quick!"

"Well, unless it's a flat line we see or hear, then there's nothing wrong!" one of them said. "Dude, you can't just call in the doctors when it's not really an emergency! Don't you see that they have too many other things to attend to? Worse cases than _this one_?"

"This isn't Hollywood!" I replied. "Really, just call in the doctors! STAT! Subtle waves on the ECG mean that there's something wrong with Mr. Krabs's heartbeat! Or even possibly, death! Don't you understand!?"

As soon as they called in the doctors, Spongebob got out of the nearby elevator. He was already walking towards the room, ready to get the bottle that he will soon inherit from the now-senile Mr. Krabs.

* * *

_Author's Note: I'm sorry if I depicted how the ECG monitors heartbeats inaccurately, or any other scene that takes place in the hospital. I'm not a medical student or a doctor, after all. (I major in architecture.) I also haven't witnessed this kind of scenario in real life._

_Now, review reply:_

_Third Kind – Yeah, I haven't been watching TV lately at all. Besides, I heard that the newer episodes of SBSP aren't really as good as the older ones, although the very premise of this fanfic is based on the (post-movie) episodes _New Leaf, Friend or Foe,_ and the first movie._


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